


darkness will be rewritten

by homebuilding



Series: rescue me from the waves [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bed-Wetting, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Kid Peter Parker, Minor Character Death, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Physical Abuse, Precious Peter Parker, Recovery, Tony Stark Has A Heart, all implied and referenced abuse but never shown on screen, all recovery, hydra had peter but now tony has peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-05-15 09:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 80,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14788020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homebuilding/pseuds/homebuilding
Summary: "Richard Parker was studying Cross-Species Genetics, but struggled with the ethics of it, because it required he use human DNA, which no ethics board would agree with. So he used his own. His work was successful based off of his own DNA, and every human has a unique DNA,” Bruce explains. “So, naturally, when HYDRA wanted his research, they knew they would never get his support, so they took the next best thing they could to his own DNA. His son."Or, Tony finds a tortured and experimented-on Peter Parker in a HYDRA base and decides to help him because who else will?





	1. the boy on the ceiling

**Author's Note:**

> this story takes place sometime after CA:WS, so anything after that is not canon. Peter is also much younger than he would be in MCU canon at the time of WS, so keep that in mind.
> 
> this story deals with content that is very harmful to some readers. If you have any triggers that involve child abuse, sexual abuse, self harm (this story has none, but there are graphics that can be triggering), please be safe and do NOT read if it can harm you! 
> 
> most chapters should have appropriate warnings in front of them, but still make sure to be safe!

The only thing that Tony Stark wanted to be doing at two in the morning less than sitting on a Quinjet, preparing to search a HYDRA base, was to be sitting on a Quinjet, preparing to search a HYDRA base, while Clint complains directly in his ear. 

“Seriously, we couldn’t have waited until dawn? It’s not like they’re going anywhere in 6 hours,” Clint whines for the thousandth time that morning, not bothering to stifle a yawn. He leans his head on Tony's shoulder, flipping the older man off when he hastily shoves him right off. 

“We only have a short window of time where they will be at their lowest defence, it is the smartest time to go in,” Steve explains.

“But, if baby needs a nap, I’m sure everyone will understand if you want to sit this one out,” Natasha smirks at her friend. “What about you, Stark? Awfully quiet over there; getting too old for late night ventures?”

Before he can reply with his half-hearted morning snip, Bruce speaks up from his spot at the pilot’s chair. “Can we just do this as efficiently and quickly as possible so the other guy doesn’t have to make an appearance?”

This was the first real mission the team has had in quite a while. The Avengers, sans Thor, who had long before returned to Asgard, had received news of a HYDRA base high north of Maine, which could possibly be holding important information. _Maine,_ Tony thinks, _Who thought of Maine? Might as well make your base in Canada._

“That’s the goal. We’re nearly there. Everyone know their positions?” Steve asks, waiting for everyone’s affirmative before continuing. “Sources tell us that this base in particular is home to a weapon HYDRA is creating. No more details; it could be anything, and we need to be prepared for that.”

 _Or anyone,_ Tony thinks. The last weapon HYDRA had hidden away was The Winter Solider, and every since finding out that particular fact Steve has been on an endless search of both bases and the man himself - with no results thus far.

“We’re all ready when you are, Cap,” Tony pipes up, dropping the faceplate down to secure his suit. “Just give us your mark.”

The plan was simple. Bruce will continue to fly the Quinjet as the team unobtrusively drop down to the ground. From there they will cover all exits while Bruce keeps his distance until called for, either for the Hulk or for a haste exit.

As the jet approached the facility, the team got into position and waited for Steve’s nod and they dropped out of the plane, parachutes in place and ready to be drawn. Tony watches them drop before flying himself out of the Quinjet, calling behind him “Safe travels, Brucey".

As he approached his appropriate exit, Tony notices the poorly hidden alarm system easily. “Hold up,” he calls into his earpiece, “We most likely tripped an alarm at every entrance. JARVIS, you see any kind of keypad?”

“Negative, sir. It is most likely a remotely operated device.” JARVIS replies, showing Tony the scans of the alarm.

“Not a problem, dear,” Tony replies, examining the scans himself. “Pathetic. Who came up with this system? There are better alarm systems in suburban houses. At least give me a challenge.”

“Can you get in or not, Stark?” Steve demands over the comm.

“As easy as you can lift a chihuahua, Cap,” Tony shoots back. “Gimme ten seconds”, he says, before promptly jamming the alarm’s system. “Done. No need to thank me, and please, no pictures, really, it was nothing,” he exclaims in mock humility.

Once being concurrently shot down by every member of the team, including Bruce, who had to be miles away by now, Tony opened his door and stepped into the base.

Looking around, observing the darkened walls smattered with who knows what kind of substance, metal doors firmly shut, Tony sighs. “You think for once these places would not follow the evil stereotype, huh J? I mean, come on, even bad guys want a little luxury.”

“Perhaps they believe the more grimy the building the more evil they truly are; I hear a person’s true self is reflected in their cleanliness” JARVIS replies.

“Is that a jab at the current state of the workshop?” Tony accuses.

“Never, sir,” JARVIS shoots back. “Only one would think for a man as wealthy as you, one should be able to see the floor.”

“It’s been a busy week!” Tony cries.

“Whatever you say, sir,” JARVIS replies.

Tony is about to reply when Steve speaks into the intercom. “Northeast side of the building is a bust, nothing but some pool of murky water. Clint, Nat, what do you have on your side?” he asks.

“I got an empty bunker over here; doesn’t look like anyone’s been here for awhile.” Clint responds.

“Natasha?” Steve asks.

There is silence over the comm. After two more calls of her name, there is a quiet reply. “I might need backup on the west side of the building. Looks like a lab; a few doctors, a couple of guards in front of the door. We need them alive if we want any answers.” Natasha responds.

“I’m en route” Steve replies, with Tony and Clint’s responses as well.

As Tony makes his way towards the west end of the building, his sensors detect heat coming from inside one of the doors. “Yay, company is here” he mutters, moving towards the door. “J, how many?”

“Scans show only one presence behind the door, sir” JARVIS responds. As he approaches the door, Tony notices the door has a lock plastered on it, locking whatever is inside from getting out. “Sir, may I suggest calling for backu-“

“Mute,” Tony replies, cutting off JARVIS’ suggestion.

He reaches out, placing a hand on the lock. Hesitates, and slowly knocks on the door, testing the waters. Listens. No response. Knocks again. Listens more closely. And he can hear it.

A whimper.

Listening for a few more moments, Tony doesn’t hear any more sounds coming from inside the room. He weighs the risks to himself for a moment before quickly muttering, “Aw, fuck it,” and turning the lock. As he slowly opens the door, he braces himself for the worst, for a Winter Solider 2.0 waiting to jump him, but instead what he finds causes him to falter.

Crouched in the corner of the room is a small shaking figure, and wide, so impossibly wide brown eyes, are staring directly at Tony.

“Hi,” Tony says, and the figure flinches back. _Shit,_ he thinks, _he probably thinks a scary robot is talking to him,_ and quickly drops the faceplate down. “Hey there,” he says again, slowly approaching the shivering boy.

The kid is wearing an overlarge, disgusting looking grey t-shirt, and a moth eaten pair of black sweats. He looks absolutely terrified of Tony. “I’m not going to hurt you.” he says, slowly extends his hand out to the boy. “What’s your name?” he asks.

The boy look at his hand like it were a cocked gun. Even so, he continues to stare at Tony remains silent.

“Can you understand me? Do you speak English?” he asks again, only receiving more silent stares.

Before he can say more, the comm once again pipes up in his ear, revealing a pissed-off sounding Captain, “Stark, where are you? We’ve secured the lab. There wasn’t anything here besides those guards and the doctors, but the damn bastards took cyanide tablets before we could get anything from them.”

“You think after 70 years they would find something more comforting then hiding cyanide tablets in their fucking mouths,” Clint responds, sounding equally as upset. “I just want to go to bed. This was a bust. There’s nothing here. We called Bruce for excursion. Where you at, Stark?”

“Yeah, about that” he states, deciding to promptly ignore the resulting flinch from the huddled figure in front of him, “I really hope I didn’t just find this so called ‘weapon’ we were warned about, but”-

“Where are you?” Natasha cuts him off, “We’ll come back you up”-

“No, you don’t get it.” Tony argues. “He can’t be the weapon, he’s”-

“He?!” Tony is once again cut off, this time by Steve. “Who is it? Are you okay?”

“It’s a fucking kid!” Tony yells, watching the boy flinch harder than before. “Shit, sorry, that was loud, wasn’t it?” he tries to console the boy.

“What do you mean, it’s a kid? How old?” Natasha asks.

“How am I supposed to know? Five? Six? He’s on the young side,” he shoots back.

“Does he seem like an immediate threat?” she asks.

“Jesus Christ, Nat. He’s six. He isn’t going to rip my face off.”

“You’d be surprised what children are capable of when taught by people who know what they’re doing,” she replies.

Tony goes quiet. Observes the boy. Crouches down so he is closer to his face. Besides a small flinch, the boy makes no move. Quietly, as if to not let the boy hear him, says, “He doesn’t seem like a threat. He’s terrified.”

“Then bring him to the front of the building. Bruce is on his way. We’ll decide what to do with him,” Steve replies.

Tony hums an affirmative and turns back towards the kid. “So, you wanna get out of here?” he says. He’s still a good distance away from him. At hearing those words, the boy begins to shake harder than he had before. He huddles into the wall as if he wishes it would swallow him whole.

Tony sighs and stands up. He decides that the kid might be more open to the idea if he were out of the suit, showing no visible threats. As he steps out of the armour, and slowly walks closer, calm is not what Tony would say he observes from the boy. Instead, those frighteningly large eyes widen even further and, to Tony’s amazement, the small figure begins to climb up the wall.

“What the fu”- he cuts himself off. The boy is still crouching in the corner of the room, though on the ceiling now rather than the floor. “Hey, hey. No need to… crawl away. I just want to help you. I promise I won’t hurt you.” he says in a voice he hopes is comforting.

“Stark.” Tony jumps, and turns towards the intruding voice. Natasha is standing in the doorway, slightly crouched as she examines the room. When her eyes make contact with the shivering child on the ceiling, her eyes soften.

“What are you doing here? I said he wasn’t a threat!” Tony barks at her.

“True or not, there was no way he was coming with you by his own will. You’re a stranger to him. There’s no way he was being treated well here, he won’t be trusting the way normal kids would be.” she explains, before making her way into the room.

Tony looks away from her and up at the boy. He is still crouched on the ceiling, quietly observing what is going on beneath him. Natasha steps closer to the corner the boy resided in before he crawled up the wall.

“Boy” she says in a demanding voice that shocks Tony, and he watches the boy’s eyes snap towards her.

“What the hell, Romanoff, he’s scared enough, you don”- she cuts him off with a firm glare, before looking back up at the boy.

“Boy” she says again. “Get down. You must drink this,” she produces a small bottle from her left pocket.

The boy’s eyes track the movement, eyeing the bottle for a second, all the while taking in Natasha’s firm gaze, before slowly crawling down. Once back in his original corner, Natasha twists the cap off and extends the bottle to the boy, watching as he slowly takes the bottle.

“Good boy” she says, causing the boy to perk up, eye’s widening, mouth eagerly opening to drink from the bottle.

Quite frankly, it disgusts Tony. The boy’s willingness to drink from an unknown bottle at the hints of praise. His obedience, not at kindness shown towards him, but at the angry demands of a stranger.

Once the contents of the bottle had been drained into the boy’s mouth, not ten seconds pass before his eyes begin to droop. He sways, and he falls, but not before he flashes Tony a look of uttermost terror, and, it almost seems, betrayal.

A look that will surely haunt Tony for years to come.

Natasha catches the falling boy, and quickly turns to pass his tiny body to Tony.

“What the hell was that?!” he demands.

“A sedative. Mild, but should keep him down for the trip home.” she replies.

“Ya, I get that part. What I don’t get it why you gave it to him or why you were acting like you were going to eat him!” he cries.

“Stark, this is HYDRA. Not a Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. He clearly has some kind of powers, and they are using him for them. They aren’t being kind. If we had continued your way, days would pass and he would still be too confused and frightened to come down.” she explains, then lowers her voice. “Look, I don’t want to be that guy. I never want to be that guy. Especially not to a child. But you had already taken the role of good cop, so I had no choice.”

Tony sighs and looks down at the sleeping boy in his arms. Without the presence of fear on his face, and his frighteningly large eyes closed, the boy looks peaceful. He’s a cute kid, Tony observes. Curly, untamed brown hair to match his eyes. _Too skinny,_ he thinks, feeling the child's shoulder blades popping out from under his hands.

  
Tony looks around the room, this locked cell that is most likely the kid’s bedroom. No bed, no toilet, nothing to show that somebody sleeps in this room. He walks out of the cell and promises himself that this boy will never have to live in these conditions ever again.

When they arrive outside, Bruce has already arrived with the Quinjet. When the four remaining members see the child in Tony’s arms, they gasp simultaneously.

“Jeez, HYDRA recruiting young, huh?” Clint attempts to joke, before getting shot down by the team’s looks.

“Let’s get him back to the tower; I’ll notify Fury. He’ll know how to proceed from here.” Steve says.

As they step onto the Quinjet, Tony lays the boy down on two seats before pressing his wristband and summoning the suit from the boy’s cell.

“Do we know his name?” Clint asks, sitting across from Tony, both pair of eyes on the sleeping figure.

“No” Tony replies. “He hasn’t said a thing.”

“Does he understand English?”

“He listened to Natasha. Seems to only want to answer to strict orders.” he says.

“What could they possibly want with a five year old?” Clint questions.

“He has some sort of mutation. I don’t know how he got it, maybe they experimented, maybe he was born with it. He can scale walls like a fucking spider.” he explains.

Clint is silent for a moment before stating, “That’s kind of badass.” At Tony’s look, he quickly explains, “I mean, it sucks, obviously, he’s a kid, but I mean, scaling walls? Badass.”

Tony looks down at the boy lying beside him, remembering the look of pure terror on the tiny face, the small body’s constant trembles, and sighs. “Yeah. Badass.”

As the Quinjet takes off and begins its journey to the Tower, things begin to settle around the team. Steve gets in contact with Fury, who agrees to meet them at the tower. Natasha sits with Bruce in the cockpit and quietly explains the situation. Clint falls asleep, body splattered across four of the seats, quietly snoring.

Tony sits, holding a small, unusually still hand, and vows that no matter what this child is; no matter how much he has been hurt, Tony will make sure that the boy will always have somebody in his corner.

He doesn't know why, what has drawn him in to this situation, but something inside of Tony knows that nothing will hurt this boy again. That he will make sure he is kept safe. 


	2. tony stark has a heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible TW: This chapter contains references to torture, as well as references to cuts on one's wrists, though not inflicted in a self-harm manner.

Sitting in the debriefing room, Tony feels he should have fought a tad harder to keep the kid by his side.

In his defence, everything was a bit chaotic upon returning to the tower. The minute the Quintet had landed, the team were greeted with a huge team of whatever is left of SHIELD. Guards, Doctors, you name it. They swarmed the jet and had ripped the boy from Tony’s arms.

“What the hell?” Tony demanded, tightening his grip on the boy. The jostling had woken the boy up and his eyes were intensely fluttering, fighting off the sedative.

“Stand down, Stark.” Fury had come from behind the group, approaching the Avengers. “We need to figure out who he is and what they were doing to him. If he’s healthy, and how we can properly care for him. They’ll take care of him. I need to debrief you, get any information about the conditions he was living in. Understood?” he demands.

Tony grumbles to himself, looking towards the boy, who throughout the explanation had managed to fully open his eyes, and was once again staring at Tony, body limp in the arms of the doctor. “Yeah. Understood,” he says to Fury, before turning his attention back to the boy, “everything will be alright, okay? You’re safe and i’ll come to see you as soon as I can” he says, hoping his voice is calming the kid.

There is no response. Instead, the doctors begin to walk away, and soon those gaping eyes turn the corner, out of Tony’s sight.

 _Not out of his mind, however_ , Tony thinks as he sits idly at the table. The team have been discussing possibilities for reasoning behind the boy’s presence in HYDRA, what they could have done to him, and what Steve, Natasha, and Clint had seen in the lab while Tony was with the boy.

“What about the cage?” Natasha adds to the conversation, catching Tony’s fading attention.

“What do you mean?” Clint asks.

“In the middle of the room, there was a cage. Almost like a dog crate. That isn’t normal lab stuff.”

“They put him in a fucking cage,” Tony gapes, “Put him in a cage and examined him like he was a goddamn fucking rat.”

“We don’t know if that was the case, Tony.” Bruce adds, “We shouldn’t even be making assumptions before we know more about his DNA, his physical exams.”

Before Tony could respond, the door to the room bursts open, and Fury enters the room and stands before the five Avengers.

“Where is he?” Tony asks. “Is he safe?”

Fury looks at him with a glare. “What do you think we were going to do with him? Put him in a cell and run our own experiments?”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past you.” Steve comes to Tony’s defence. Nobody is quite trusting towards SHIELD since the HYDRA infestation was discovered.

“Well, dumbasses, we aren’t going to do that. However,” he says, raising a hand to cut off Tony, who is opening his mouth to protest, “we have no idea what they did to this kid, nor how dangerous he is. We don’t have a clue who he is right now. We’re talking all the tests necessary and then we’re placing him in a room under our supervision, monitoring him.”

“No.” Tony shuts him down, “I’ll take him.”

“You said he was climbing the damn walls. What do you know about mutant childcare, Stark?” he scoffs. “He stays here under observation until we know more about him, and then we try and find who he is.”

“When can i see him?” Tony asks.

“Tony, you’ve been up all night, and I’m willing to bet you weren’t sleeping before that in the workshop”- Steve tries to argue before Tony cuts him off.

“I’m fine. I promised him I would be back to see him. You didn’t see him Steve. He was scared. He doesn’t know who anybody here is and now he’s with people who probably look exactly like the bastards that hurt him.”

“JARVIS, when was the last time Tony slept?” Steve asks.

“It has been 38 hours and 24 minutes since Sir has rested, Captain Rogers.” JARVIS informs him.

“You need to sleep, Tony.” Steve says. “It isn’t helping the boy if you're sleep deprived.”

“Besides,” Fury pipes up. “The tests will take hours, and by the time you wake up he’ll be in a room set up for him, you can see him there.”

“Make sure it has a fucking bed,” Tony demands, admitting defeat and getting up to go take a nap. “He was in an empty cell, he deserves a bed.”

Damn, he’s tired.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Tony dreams of a cold cave and being hooked up to a battery.

He needs to stay alive, there is something he has to do, what was it, he can’t remember, but he has to stay alive for that.

They push him under the water, holding him until he cannot breathe, but he can't give up, he has to hold the battery up, it can’t get wet, it can’t-

There is a pair of bright brown eyes staring at him.

That isn’t right. He can’t be here. It isn’t safe.

“What are you doing to him?” Tony asks, spluttering water. “You can’t do this to him, he’s only a kid, he doesn't know anything, he’s just a”-

He is dunked under again. The eyes continue to stare.

“You need to get out of here, kid,” Tony demands, “it’s not safe, I can’t protect you here.”

As they dunk him under again, the light in those wide eyes fades to nothing, fading away from Tony’s sight, and his torturer leans in and whispers,

“You can’t save him.”

XXXXXXXXXXX

He shoots awake. “J, time?” he asks.

“It is currently 4:38pm, sir. You have been asleep for 5 hours and 11 minutes.” JARVIS informs him.

“Where’s the kid? What did they do with him?” he asks.

“Director Fury has arranged for the child to be placed in an observation room on Floor 24. Shall I inform him you are on your way?”

Tony sighs. “Yeah, J.”

As he makes his way to the floor, he tries to convince himself to shake off the dream. “It was stupid. He isn’t dead. He's safe. The Ten Rings are gone. I’m safe. We’re all safe.”

“Indeed, Sir.” JARVIS informs him. “It is 4:44pm, in New York City, and all Avengers, sans Thor, are present and healthy in the tower. Captain Rogers is alongside Agent Barton in the gym, Dr. Banner is”-

“Yeah, I got it, thanks J.” Tony cuts him off, right as the elevator dings and he steps onto the 24th floor. Instead of Fury, however, it is Bruce who greets him. “What are you doing here?” he asks his friend.

“”They asked me to look at his blood work. It’s extraordinary. I’ve never seen anything like this up close, only in an old journal.” Bruce explains.

“A HYDRA journal?” Tony assumes.

“No, that’s the thing. Are you familiar with Richard Parker?” Bruce asks.

“Um. No. Should I be?” Tony responds. “Did he write the journal?”

“Yeah. He was a brilliant scientist. He worked with Cross-Species Genetics, it was quite interesting work. Personally, I thought it was all theoretical, that it would be impossible to mix species that way. Of course, after The Other Guy, it became more likely it was possible.” Bruce sighs. “His wife, Mary, worked as a SHIELD agent as well.”

“Was she one of the HYDRA infiltrators?” he assumes once again.

“I doubt it. I really do. They were good people, Tony.”

“Were?” he inquires.

“They were killed in a plane crash years ago. It was officially ‘accidental’, but with Mary as an agent, and Richard so close to a breakthrough, it’s suspected HYDRA was behind it.” Bruce explains. “No proof though. Until…” he trails off.

“Until… what? C’mon, big guy, don’t hold off on me now.” Tony attempts to joke.

“Their son was on the plane as well. They never found his body.” Bruce says, looking Tony in the eye.

“Are you saying… that the kid in there is their son?”

“I’m not saying that. I can’t be sure. Its just a coincidence that Richard Parker dies in a plane crash, as well as all of his research, which, naturally, focused on crossing human DNA with that of a spider,” at this he gives Tony a pointed look. “And years later HYRDA is found harbouring a boy who has DNA that is similar to a spider.” he explains.

“How old was the kid when they died?” Tony asks.

“I’m not sure. Young. Fury and Nat are looking into finding a copy of Mary’s DNA, see if we can match them with the kid’s. Then we can be sure.”

“Where is he?” Tony asks, looking over Bruce’s shoulder for signs of the child.

“Tony,” Bruce says, causing the man to look back. “Can I ask… what about the kid has you so invested? I mean, it’s natural to feel concern for him, he’s just a boy. However, you’re acting almost… parental.”

“What?!” Tony splutters. “No, I’m not. I am just worried. You didn't see him the way I did in that room. He was scared. He doesn’t have anybody. I’m just here to make sure he remains safe then he’s out of my hands. That's all,” Tony says.

“It’s not a bad thing to care, Tony.”

“I know that. But that's not it. I don’t care. I’m just doing my job. Making sure the innocent are kept safe, yadda yadda, you know the bit.” Tony explains.

“Okay. Yeah. Well, he’s being kept in an observation room over there,” Bruce points to a room down the left hallway. “I don’t think he’s aware that we can see in, so that’s good. It’s easier to get a normal reaction when he thinks others aren’t watching.”

Tony thinks back to what Natasha has said. _The cage_. He remembers the cold, damp, dark room, with no light nor furniture. The boy was either observed like a lab rat from every angle or locked away from any gaze. 

“Let’s keep it that way, yeah?” he says, walking towards the direction Bruce had pointed in.

When he steps into the room, his gaze immediately snaps to the glass where the boy is. The room looks only slightly better than the old cell. There is a bed, and the walls are white rather than brown and stained with who knows what. There is a small bathroom off to the side of the room, with no door, and only a toilet and a sink, but other than that, nothing. The boy is sitting not on the bed, but rather in the corner of the room, very similar to how he sat in the cell.

“Um, did anyone tell him he was allowed on the bed?” Tony asks.

“We didn’t think it was necessary, sir. We told him the room was his for now.” One of the doctors observing the boy replied.

“I am going to go in and talk to him.” Tony says.

“Sir, I don’t think that would be wise. We were ordered to observe and note anything the child does that is out of the ordinary of a normal child. Having company could interfere with our findings,” another doctor claims.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t know what you see in that room, but I see a scared child who is huddled in a corner, not an experiment for you to jerk off over. I’m going in.” Tony says, before pushing past the men and opening the door to the room.

When he steps into the room, the boy, who had been slightly rocking back and forth in his corner, had frozen.

“Me again, kid.” Tony says. “How are you feeling?” he asks, not expecting an answer.

He gets none. Instead, the child slowly uncurls from his ball and sits straighter against the wall.

Remembering his mistake from last time, Tony does not approach the boy. Instead, he backs up to the opposite corner and sits down, mirroring the child’s position.

The boy looks confused. He stares at Tony as if he was the first person he had ever seen. _Maybe the first person to ever be kind to him_ , Tony thinks.

“Were our doctors nice to you? I hope they were. They don’t want you to be hurt,” Tony says, trying to get a reaction from the boy. “You know you can sit on the bed if you want. It’s yours.”

The boy doesn't move. Does not even look at the bed. Instead, continues to pierce Tony’s soul with his wide gaze.

“Okay. Well. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s all up to you, kid. Im just here to keep you company, if you don't mind,” Tony says. “I won’t even bother you. I’ll just sit here and… work.” He says, pulling his phone out to start working, as to not intimidate the boy.

After about twenty minutes of working on his phone in silence, Tony sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He looks up at the boy, who catches his gaze and freezes, before flinching back into his original position.

 _New plan,_ Tony thinks, _let the kid come to you. No looking._

He continues working, seeing the occasional movement from the boy, more hesitant, as if testing to see how much he can move before Tony looks back up. He makes sure he doesn’t.

Tony must have zoned out, because the next thing he realizes, he cannot see the kid from the sides of his eyes. He knows the boy must be on the ceiling. He still doesn’t look up. He makes sure the kid doesn’t run back to his spot.

Either way, Tony is starting to get a little anxious. He can’t see the kid, and for all he knows, the boy is getting ready to pounce. Praying his next move won’t send the small figure running back to his original position, he starts to quietly sing.

“We’ve been through this such a long, long time,” he murmurs, “just trying to kill the pain,” he continues, before the boy appears in his sight again, this time on the wall to Tony’s right, slowly crawling towards the man. “But love is always coming, and love is always going” he keeps singing, silently encouraging the boy to get closer. “And no one’s really sure who’s letting go today, walking away.” At this point, the boy is within arms reach of Tony, still clinging onto the wall with all four limbs.

“You like that? Gun’s N Roses. Great band. I bet you never got to listen to music there, huh?” Tony says, daring to look up at the boy.

He flinches slightly, backing up the tiniest amount. Tony doesn't say anything, merely staring back at him, letting him decide what to do next. The boy glances towards the wall where there must be dozens of observers outside. _Smart kid,_ Tony thinks to himself, knowing the wall shows no signs of being a one way glass.

The boy looks back to Tony and inches towards the man. When he gets beside him, he slowly crawls down from halfway up the wall, where he was residing, to sitting on his knees, right beside Tony.

He looks uncertain as to what to next. Frankly, Tony is uncertain as to what to do next. “Do you want to see something cool?” he asks. The boy looks confused, tilting his head slightly to the right.

Tony goes back to his phone. Quickly gets access to the work they had been doing on the boy that morning. Pulls up a picture, and shows it to the kid. “See that? That’s your skeleton. It’s what you look like on the inside. The white parts are your bones, see?” he says, pointing to the picture.

The boy examines the pictures with wide eyes. His mouth begins to move, without producing any sound, almost silent babbling, and goes to point to the picture.

As he moves, Tony notices the state of the boy’s wrists. They have deep gashes all over them, old and new alike, deep red gashes overtop scarring white ones. _What the hell?_ Tony thinks, looking at the boy. _What were they doing to him?_

The child seems to notice Tony’s anger, and quickly retracts his hand from the phone, jerking back and cradling his hand as if he had been burnt.

“Hey, it’s okay kid,” Tony says gently, slowly reaching his own hand toward the child, palm raised up to display no harm. “I’m not angry at you. I’ll never be angry with you. You don’t ever have to be frightened around me, okay?”

The boy looks cautious. He places his fingers in his mouth, curled around his bottom lip, and examines Tony’s hand. He glances down to Tony’s thigh before looking back, keeping his one hand in his mouth as the other hesitantly grabs on to Tony’s.

Before Tony’s heart can burst from the tension, it instead breaks into tiny pieces as a small, near inaudible whisper escapes the boy’s mouth, around the tiny fingers.

“Good boy?”

A small noise of despair comes out of Tony’s mouth. “Yeah, buddy. You’re a good boy. The best.” With that, the small fingers interlock with Tony’s and the boy relaxes beside Tony.

They sit in the corner of the small room for a while longer before Tony feels all residing tension leave the boy’s body. He has fallen asleep. Tony waits a while longer before quietly removing his hand from the boy’s, and standing up, stretching his aching back. Contemplates carrying the boy to the bed, but decides against it in fear of waking the jittery boy up. Instead, the slowly retrieves the blanket from the bed, drapes it over the boy, and with one last glance at the sleeping child, walks out of the room.

And he is greeted by one angry looking Nick Fury.

“So, looks like you’ve had time to fall in love with Pete, huh?”

“What are you talking about?” Tony asks. Bruce’s voice pipes up from behind Fury.

“Tony, meet Peter. Peter Parker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song tony sings to peter is November Rain by Guns N Roses. 
> 
> I'm still trying to figure out a set timeline for when i'll get chapters up, so for now enjoy very quick updates LOL. 
> 
> Please leave any feedback or suggestions in the comments!


	3. someday you'll be free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys! Here's chapter 3! 
> 
> Everything that is said about Richard Parker comes from The Amazing Spiderman wiki page, but the Peter I'm generally working with the image of a younger Tom Holland for Peter :) 
> 
> ...Also i know nothing about genetics so please bear with me.

“So HYDRA took the bo… Peter, because of his father’s work?” Steve asks, clarifying what everyone had already been told.

“It’s the most probable answer. Richard Parker was studying Cross-Species Genetics, but struggled with the ethics of it, because it required he use human DNA, which no ethics board would agree with. So he used his own. His work was successful based off of his own DNA, and every human has a unique DNA,” Bruce explains. “So, naturally, when HYDRA wanted his research, they knew they would never get his support, so they took the next best thing they could to his own DNA.”

“Because Peter shares his DNA,” Clint asks.

“Exactly. Half of Peter’s genes come from Richard, so they didn’t have to start from scratch with his research.” Bruce clarifies.

“Obviously they were successful.” Steve says.

“The bigger question is; were they successful with anybody else who didn’t share Parker’s DNA?” Natasha asks.

“Honestly, it’s unlikely. DNA is so specific, if they used Richard’s own formula on an individual who didn’t share some DNA with himself, it would likely cause defects so intense the subject… wouldn’t survive.” Bruce sighs.

“They probably tried. A lot” Tony says, “They’d never want to stop at just one.”

“Do we know the extent to what they were doing with him? Were they training him to fight?” Steve asks.

“I’ve been observing him since Stark found him,” Natasha informs the team, “Not once did he attempt to fight. Child soldiers are taught to fight back against all unknown threats, that is what we are to him. He was just frightened. My guess would be they wanted to know all they could about his mutation before training him accordingly to his strengths.”

“What about that, anyway? Do we know the extents of his powers?” Steve asks. Tony sends him a glare.

“He’s a kid, Cap. He probably doesn’t even know he has powers, he can barely speak. How would we know the extents?” he shoots at the blond man.

“Relax, Stark. It’s a good concern to have.” Natasha turns to the rest of the team, voice softening, “Tony’s right, though, We have to get Peter to trust us before we can figure it out, we want him to feel safe.”

“Did you see the state of his wrists? It looks like they were slashing them up daily!” Tony says.

“There’s no point assuming what they were doing. There are so many possibilities. Our best bet is to make Peter trust us and in time he will hopefully tell us himself.”

“So we’re keeping him?” Clint asks, “His parents are gone, does he have any other family that was looking for him?”

“We looked into it. His aunt and uncle, May and Ben Parker, live in Queens, they were in the Parker’s will as next of kin.” Natasha explains. “But Fury thinks it would be a bad idea to send him there. They think he died in the crash, there was no reason to not believe it.”

“Shouldn’t his family be informed he’s alive?” Steve voice raises. “They’ll want to know he’s not dead.”

The room goes quiet for a moment. Steve, too, knows what it is like to think their loved one is dead, unaware they are instead suffering through much worse at the hands of evil people.

“Steve,” Natasha says, eyes soft, “He probably doesn’t even know his name is Peter. HYDRA had no reason to keep using his name. He doesn’t know who he is. Giving him to his aunt and uncle now would be handing them a stranger.”

“Natasha’s right,” Clint pipes up, “It’s not like your situation, Cap. Bucky lived a life before HYDRA, he continued to remember you until the day they fell. Peter wasn’t even two when he was taken. He doesn’t have anything to remember before HYDRA.”

“And he’s six years old now,” Steve says, “That’s still giving him a whole life he can make new memories with the family that loves him.”

“If we gave him to them now,” Natasha calmly explains, “they would be responsible for a child with a genetically enhanced mutation he does not know how to control, who doesn’t know them, fears authority, and expects to be hurt at the slightest mistake, or less.”

“It’s been four years, Steve,” Clint says, “That’s twice as long as they knew him. They’ve grieved. All we would be doing is giving them more grief.”

“What do you think, Tony?” Steve asks.

Tony looks at the man. “I think they should know,” Tony says, continuing before Steve can reply, “but later. Once we figure more out and get him to trust more people. We can tell him in advance once he knows he can trust us and he’ll be safe with them.” he explains.

“That’s a good plan.” Bruce pipes up.

“Where is he going to stay until then?” Clint asks. “He can’t live in an observation room where the bathroom doesn’t even have a fucking door.”

“He’s going to stay with me.” Tony says, as if it were obvious. “With us. At the tower. Who better to deal with this than the Avengers?”

“Fury thinks he should stay with Xavier.” Natasha informs the group. “Be with people who can understand his mutation, teach him to handle it.”

“He walks up walls, he doesn’t blow things up.” Tony says. “It’s not up for discussion. The tower is the safest place for him. We know HYDRA is looking for him. They’ll want him back. I won’t let him stay in an unguarded mansion when he can be here in the safest building in the world.”

“Yeah.” Clint says. “The Avengers got ourselves a baby,” he jokes, jumping away from the punch Natasha sends his way.

XXXXXXXXXXX

That night, Tony finds himself in the empty observation room.

Peter has returned to his original corner, blanket left on the floor where Tony had draped it across him earlier that day. He huddles into himself, slowly rocking back and forth, arms hugging his midsection, mouth moving in his silent babbles like before.

Before reluctantly leaving for the night, a doctor informed Tony that the boy had slept for six hours, just waking up minutes before Tony had arrived.

Tony suspects neither of them will be getting much sleep tonight.

As he observes the rocking boy, Tony notices the notes that have been observed throughout the day.

 _1\. Afraid of contact with Doctors._  
_2\. Afraid of contact with anybody - > not Stark? _  
_3\. Climbs walls/ceiling as if safer to move about._

Tony knew these facts. He did not, however, think the boy was unafraid of him. Hesitant, jumpy, like an abused cat. _An abused kid,_ he thinks to himself. He goes back to the list.

 _4\. Rocks himself nearly constantly_  
_5\. Finds comfort in hugging own body, especially while rocking - > touch starved?_

Constantly rocking himself. Rocking shouldn’t be concerning. Toddlers do it all the time to calm down when their upset. At six, however, Tony assumes it must be for a bigger issue than simply being upset or tired. The kid is probably always upset. He gets no comfort and has most likely had to resort to comforting himself in the only way he knows how to.

 _6\. Did not eat when presented with food - > reasoning unknown. _  
_7\. Accepted water when proven was water._

That was concerning for Tony. He remembered the look of betrayal when Peter had realized Natasha’s drink was not, in fact, water. The food, however, confused Tony. He had no way of knowing why Peter wouldn’t eat. He only knew that they had to find a way to get the kid to eat or else he could get sick.

Just as Tony was about to keep reading the list, a small whimper comes from inside of the room. He looks up to see the kid, who had paused in his rocking and instead was frozen solid. His gaping, eyes were glistening with tears as they looked directly at Tony, as if he knew where the man was sitting in the observation room.

Tony was confused. What had caused Peter to whimper like that? He didn’t look to be in any danger, and Tony continued to look into the darkened room until he saw it.

Peter was sitting in a pile of his own urine.

“Shit,” Tony whispers to himself. Quickly gets up and runs into the main bathroom on the floor. Grabs as many towels as he can before dashing back into the room. He quickly observes Peter, whom is now barely breathing with his state of stock-still body. He opens the door and walks in.

Peter’s eyes snap towards him. Whimpers, and, instead of fleeing, all of the tension leaves his body and he slumps slightly forward, still sitting in his own pee. He lets out a quiet sob.

“Hey, bud.” Tony says, as softly as he can. “Had a little accident, huh? No big deal, it happens to everyone once in awhile, yea?”

Peter looks up at Tony in confusion. Glances at the puddle, the wet spot on his pants, before looking back up.

“You’re not in trouble. I promise. I know they probably got mad when this happened, yeah?” he asks, inching towards the boy. He gets no answer. Instead, the boy’s head slowly drops and his fingers inch toward his mouth. _Gross,_ Tony thinks.

“Hey, how about we clean you up before we suck on our hands, okay?” Tony says. “We’ll just drop these towels down and they can deal with everything else in the morning. We’ll go somewhere with an actual bathtub. How’s that sound?” he says, hoping he still sounds comforting, while extending his own hand to the boy.

Peter slowly lowers his hand from his mouth. Examines Tony’s hand, looks at the puddle on the ground once more, before raising himself up and taking the man’s hand. “Yeah, good job, bud.”

“Good?” Peter asks, so very softly, as if making sure the recent events did not change the older man’s opinion of him.

“So good. Let’s just drop these towels over the mess, how’s that? And we can use this one to dry you off a bit. Then we’ll go get clean, how’s that sound?” he asks, dropping all but one towel over the puddle and crouching to Peter’s level to dab at the mess on his pants.

“Good.” Peter replies, allowing the man to wipe some of the mess away.

Tony smiles at the boy. Keeps his hand in the smaller hand as he stands up. “Let’s go get cleaned up, kid.”

He walks out of the room with Peter right beside him, and goes straight for the elevator.

“Where to, Sir?” JARVIS inquires. At the unexpected voice, Peter jumps out of his skin. Looks around wildly for somebody who could be talking.

“Hey, it’s okay. That’s just JARVIS. I made him. He’s my AI. That’s like a robot helper. He helps me with everything. He’s great,” Tony explains, trying to calm the boy down. “Say hi to my new friend, J.”

“Hello there. I am JARVIS. I am terribly sorry to have frightened you.” JARVIS says.

Peter continues looking at the ceiling, slightly tightening his fingers in Tony’s. Tony smiles slightly at the pressure. “Take us to my floor, J.” he orders, and they begin moving.

When they get to Tony’s floor, he guides the boy to the bathroom. “Here we go,” he says, “how about a bath?” he asks, looking to the boy for any form of discomfort. Seeing none, he turns on the water and plugs the drain.

When realizing that a bath means having to take Peter’s soiled clothes off, and therefore leave the boy with no clothes, he has Peter sit upon the toilet seat before calling Pepper.

“Tony? It’s nearly midnight.” she says, sounding exhausted.

“Yeah, sorry, do we, uh, does the tower have any clothes that would fit… a small six year old?” Tony asks hesitantly.

“Why? Did you steal a six year old, Tony?” Pepper accuses.

“What? Of course not! Well, kind of. In a sense. He needs clothes, Pep.” he says.

“Who is he, Tony? What is he wearing now?” she asks.

“Some kid we found at a HYDRA base. His other clothes… got wet. If you catch what I’m saying.” he tries to explain.

Pepper sighs. “I can have some clothes sent over for tomorrow morning. You’ll have to figure something out until then.”

“Thank you, Pep. Give yourself a raise.” Tony replies gratefully. She laughs before wishing him good luck and hanging up.

Tony quickly grabs one of his own Black Sabbath shirts before making his way back into the bathroom.

When he returns, Peter is in the same spot he was on the toilet when Tony had left him. “I’m back, kid. Let’s get you a bath, huh?” he says, moving towards the boy to peel off his shirt.

When he moves to remove the soiled sweatpants, Peter lets out a small whimper. “Hey, it’s okay. We just need to get you out of all this so you can be clean. Nothing more. I won’t even look, if that’s what you want, okay?” Tony tries to reassure the kid, trying once more to peel down the waistband. This time, the boy remains still and silent as he allows the older man to undress him. “Alright, in you go.” Tony says, unsure if he should lift him or not.

Before he can decide, Peter slowly walks towards the tub, peeking into the water, and slowly extending a hand toward the water. Right before his fingers make contact with the liquid, he brought his cautious, oh so cautious eyes towards Tony, as if studying him for any deluded intentions he may have. Tony simply smiles back at him. Seeing the grin, Peter dips his hand in the water, and slightly gasps.

Before Tony can ask what was wrong, the boy quickly fumbles into the tub and sits down in the water, all the while looking mesmerized, trailing his hands along the top the of water.

Tony quickly disposed of the ruined clothes and sits on the toilet seat Peter had abandoned while the boy traces the water. He watches the small hands extend as far as they can, spread out to the edges of the tub, and move back towards his tiny body, making lines in the water as he goes.

“We should get you some bath toys,” Tony explains, watching as the curly head pops up and stares at him in confusion. “Toys, yeah? Did they let you have toys?” he asks, getting no response besides a slight head tilt. “That’s okay, bud, we’ll get you so many.”

As he reaches towards the cabinet above the sink to retrieve his body wash, Tony lets out a slight hum. “Gonna have to get you some kid’s soap, too. You know, the one’s that smell like strawberries and shit,” he says, talking mostly to himself, before catching up to what he has said. “Oh shit, fuc- fudge. Fudge. Yeah. Have you ever had fudge? Doubt it. Maybe they have fudge smelling kids soap. That would be cool.” he rambles.

“Here,” he says, passing Peter the bottle after opening the cap. “It doesn’t have any funky smell, but for now it will work.” He watches as Peter takes the bottle, smells it, and… lifts it to his mouth.

“Wow! Okay. No. No no.” Tony says, quickly taking the bottle back from the boy. “We don’t drink this.” he scorns, causing the boy to flinch back in the water at his raised voice. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he continues, purposely lowering his voice back to what he hopes is soothing. “I didn’t mean to shout at you. I should have realized you wouldn’t know. I’m sorry,” he repeats.

Throughout his apology, if anything, Peter looks more confused. He looks at Tony through round eyes, staring, though his shaking body begins to calm down with the man’s soft voice.

Tony looks at the opened bottle, blue gel starting to peek out from Peter tipping it over. Decides to try again. “See this blue stuff?” he says, scooping some up with his pointer finger. Shows it to the boy in the bathtub. You put it on your skin to get clean.” he explains, rubbing the gel over his hands before scooping some of the water out of the tub to wash it off. “See? Now my hands are clean.”

He extends the bottle to Peter, before the boy copies Tony, scooping a small amount on his finger before washing his hands the same way he was shown. “Good boy,” he praises, watching the boy in front of him light up. “Now you just have to do it everywhere else, get suuuuper clean.”

The boy glances at him, as if for approval, before scooping more gel out of the extended bottle in Tony’s hand and moving the gel up his arm. Peter lathers his arm in the blue gel, repeating the previous motions, and soon his whole body is lathered and rinsed.

“Do you want to wash your hair, too?” Tony asks, trying to figure out a way the ratty, curly mess on the boy’s small head could be washed without hurting him.

Peter bring a small hand to his hair, tugging on a loose curl and lifting his head up as if trying to see it. Tony snorts. “I can wash it for you, I promise i’ll be very gentle.”

He scoops a bit of water in his hands before bringing it to Peter’s head. “Close your eyes so the water doesn’t get in it, okay bud?” he says, before pouring the water over the brown curls, watching as they plaster to the pale forehead.

Scooping a small amount of gel onto his own palm, Tony tries to remember a time when he had his own hair washed. He scoffs at the idea of Howard on his hands and knees washing Tony’s hair. His mother never had the time to do it herself, leaving Tony with countless nannies who would pull and prod, roughly scratching their long nails into his scalp. With the nannies came burning eyes and soapy tears. On particularly bad days, Tony would refuse to let the nannies bathe him. On those days, Jarvis, bless his soul, would place his aging body on the floor of the bathroom without complain, and gently scrub Tony’s head until he was clean.

Remembering the tenderness of Jarvis’ fingers against his young head, Tony uses that thought as inspiration for his current task. Peter sits so very still in the bathtub, eyes remaining obediently closed, waiting for Tony to scrub his head. As gently as he can, the man begins to run his soapy fingers through the wet locks.

At the first touch to the boy’s head, Peter lets out a small yelp, surprised by the sudden contact. As Tony’s gently massages his head, he releases a small sigh of contentment, as if pleased by the unfamiliar touch. Tony wonders to himself if anyone has ever touched Peter gently like this, if this is the first tenderness the boy remembers being touched with.

Taking more time than needed to wash his hair, taking his time so Peter can keep living in this moment of bliss, Tony eventually begins to wash the soap out of his hair.

 _We need to wash the soap out, Tony,_ he remembers Jarvis saying to him.

 _It stings my eyes_ , he always would say back.

 _Well, that’s no good,_ Jarvis would say, _You’ll just have to squeeze your eyes tight tight tight._

“Okay bud, this is the hard part. I’m going to put more water in your hair to get all the soap out, so i’ll need you to squeeze you’re eyes as tight as you can so it can’t hurt them, alright?” he asks, watching as Peter’s closed eyes begin to tighten even more. “Perfect, bud. Okay, here it comes,” he replies, scooping water and letting the soapy water fall down the boys head.

Once all the soap is out of Peter’s hair, Tony gives the confirmation he can open his eyes again. Watching the brown eyes slowly flutter open, he notices the fatigue residing on his small face.

“How about we dry you up and then go get some sleep?” he asks, gently extending his hand to help the boy up. Peter takes it willingly and allows the man to hold on as he steps out of the tub, water dripping onto the floor.

Tony grabs a towel from the shelf on the opposite wall, and drapes it around Peter’s tiny body. Dries the boy off and runs the towel through his hair. He reaches for the shirt he had abandoned on the counter and puts it on the kid. In Tony’s shirt, Peter looks minuscule. The shirt runs almost to his ankles, and the sleeves run just below his elbow.

“Okay, buddy. Bed time,” he says, extending his hand once again for Peter to take. He leads both of them into his bedroom, where he tries to set Peter upon the bed. However, once seeing the destination the man has, Peter yanks on Tony’s arm and begins to whimper.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, crouching down so he is closer to eye level with the kid.

“Uh uh,” Peter mumbles, pointing to the bed. He pauses, before moving his hand and pointing again, this time to the corner of the room.

“You want to sleep over there?” Tony asks. “You know you don’t have to. You won’t get in trouble for sleeping on a bed.”

“Uh uh,” Peter says desperately, pointing more urgently to the corner.

“Okay. That’s fine. You can sleep in the corner. At least take a pillow or something,” Tony replies.

He watches the boy slowly walk toward the corner, before crouching down and scanning the room. _Looking for exits,_ Tony guesses, _Or maybe ways people could come in and grab him._

He won’t sleep on a bed that is placed in the middle of the room because there are too many sides for him to be snuck up on and grabbed. Tony makes a note in his head to place the bed in the corner when they make a room for the kid.

Tony goes toward the bed, grabbing a pillow and a throw blanket, before handing them to Peter. The boy takes them, but simply lays them on the ground in front of him. Continues to crouch in his corner.

“Okay. So… I guess I should go now, right?” he says, moving to the door. A small whine stops Tony in his tracks. He turns back. “You want me to stay?”

Peter simply keeps looking at him. He reaches toward the at the blanket on the ground and hands it to Tony.

“No, that’s for you to sleep with. I can use that big one on the bed,” he says.

Peter doesn’t reply. Instead, he drops out of his crouch and extends his legs in front of him, his knees curled in to his chest, arms wrapping around his midsection, and his head droops against the wall. His eyes remain planted on Tony.

“Do you… want a bedtime story? Or something?,” Tony asks, not knowing how he should soothe a frightened mutant baby to sleep. As he ponders, a thought pops into Tony’s head.

“What did they call you, while you were there? Did they call you Peter?” he asks. Peter’s eyebrows furrow and he looks at the man in confusion. “Did you have a name?”

“Freak,” Peter quietly, oh so quietly, responds. “…spida,” he continues, using one hand to make a crawling motion with his hands, before using the other one to quickly crush the other. As if it were killing a spider.

“Spider.” Tony replies. “You aren’t a freak. You aren’t a spider. You’re a little boy. A good little boy, who isn’t getting crushed, okay?” he says. “HYDRA didn’t make you. They took you when you were very little. You’re name is Peter.” he tries to calm explain to the boy.

Tony watches as the boy’s mouth slowly mouths the word, as if testing it before he says it out loud. He repeats the movement several times, before quietly mumbling. “Pe…’cher.” he lisps out.

“Yeah. Peter. Do you like that?” Tony asks. “Nobody will ever call you a freak ever again. You’re Peter. And I’m Tony, by the way.”

“…’nee” the boy replies, eyes drooping as he slowly falls asleep against the wall.

“Close enough.” he smiles at the boy, watching as the brown orbs disappear and Peter’s breathing slows as he falls into a deep sleep. He calmly takes the forgotten blanket, drapes it over the small body as he had that morning, and moves toward the opposite couch, where he will keep an eye on the boy.

As he sits on the couch, Tony asks himself what he is doing. He doesn’t know the first thing about childcare, let alone childcare of a tortured kid with a mutation he doesn’t know the first thing about. _Who does though,_ he thinks, _Who’ll make sure he’s safe, if not me?_ Fury wants to send the kid away, have him trained by people who will teach him about his mutation, but not about how to be cared for. Peter gets confused by acts of kindness. All he knows is pain and mistreatment. He needs stability, a chance to learn 4 years of stolen love.

 _But can you provide that? Who are you to say you can take care of the kid?_ A voice asks him, sounding strangely like Howard.

 _Who else?_ he once again asks. _I can make sure he’s safe._

He can make sure he’s safe.

  
XXXXXXXXXXX

Sometime throughout the night, while watching Peter sleep, he must have fallen asleep himself, for he is woken by a shrill alarm.

“Sir, I believe Nick Fury is attempting to contact you.” JARVIS informs him.

“Answer it, J.” he says, rubbing his eyes.

As the phone connects, Tony is greeted by a shrill voice piercing the room. “You better know where the kid is or I’m going to lose my shit.” Fury shouts.

Tony looks to the corner where the boy had been sleeping, and then panics.

He isn’t there.

 _Stay calm,_ he reminds himself. _J would wake you if he had been taken._

Tony calms down and is reminded of the previous day.

He looks up, and let’s out a huge sigh.

There he is, hands and knees on ceiling, head hanging down to stare at Tony in alarm, most likely at the intruding voice, lies the kid.

Tony smiles. “I do know. And you can’t have him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> I'm too eager to write this and have so many ideas, so the chapters for now will be updated frequently! 
> 
> Please leave any comments or feedback, they mean the world to me :)


	4. the storybots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter: There are references to cuts/scars on one's wrists, though not inflicted in a self-harm manner. There is also mention of child sexual abuse.

It’s not that Tony Stark is afraid of Nick Fury. He certainly isn’t.

It’s just that, sometimes, when he wants to be, Nick Fury can be very frightening.

When he caught word that Tony had taken Peter from the observation room, his anger had been directed at the man entirely. He was not happy about Tony taking a possible danger out from where he can be controlled.

“He’s six!” Tony yells, holding his ground against the taller man. “The only danger we have to worry about is giving him more reason to be afraid of us! Leaving him in that room won’t help!”

After the waking phone call Tony had received, he had allowed Fury to come onto his floor, with strict instructions to JARVIS that only he be allowed. They are currently arguing in Tony’s living area, with Peter hidden away in the bedroom, most likely somewhere on the ceiling where he feels most safe.

“We need to keep him under observation until we are certain this isn’t a ruse!” Fury yells back. “Dammit, Stark, are you that blind? This is HYDRA! Not a goddamn preschool! They were using that kid for their own benefit. He isn’t going to be your new little pet”-

“Don’t. Don’t you dare.” Tony points at the man. “I know fully well what HYDRA is able to doing. What I’m seeing is a kid they’ve badly hurt, but hadn’t trained him for combat yet. He had all night to kill me, hurt me in anyway, and all he did was sleep in the fucking corner. It’s not up for discussion, Fury. Get out of my fucking tower and bring your team of clowns with you,” he orders.

“May i remind you that it was _you_ who called _me_ for help with the brat? _Me_ who got all his information? Or have you blissfully been able to forget that?” Fury spits.

“You got us the information, you did great. Gold star for the eyepatch. Now go.” Tony says. “Or do I need to get somebody to escort you out?”

“I’m making a call to Xavier. See if he’s willing to take the boy. It’s best for all parties.” Fury glares.

“It’s best for no parties to just _ship him away_ from people who care! He’s too young and inexperienced to be around that many kids!” Tony yells, knowing fully well what it felt like to be carted around from a young age. “I’m not arguing about this anymore, Director.” Tony spits.

Fury continues to glare at the man for a few moments before swiftly turning on his feet and storming out of the room. Tony watches as the man enters the elevator, presses a button, and waits until the doors begin to before smiling cockily and sending a wave farewell in his direction.

“Oh fuck off”- Fury is cut off by the elevator doors closing.

“One for Stark, zero for Fury. Today was a win.” Tony mutters to himself as he returns into his bedroom to retrieve the kid.

When he arrives back into his room, his eyes immediately search the ceiling for signs of Peter. After scanning for a moment, he finds his huddled figure on the ceiling directly above the bathroom door, which is firmly shut.

“Hey buddy. He’s gone. Nobody else will be here to make you leave. You’re going to stay here with me for as long as you’d like. Okay?” he gently smiles at the boy.

Peter remains on the ceiling. He looks behind Tony’s shoulder, as if making sure the man was telling the truth. Seeing body else, Peter slowly scales the ceiling before the gets directly above Tony, and climbs down, standing on two feet in front of the man.

“ ‘Nee,” he says.

“Peter,” Tony says back, smiling. Before he can say anything else, his stomach begins growling so loudly that Peter jumps slightly. “Well, that’s slightly embarrassing. I’m hungry. You must be too, huh? They said you didn’t want to eat yesterday.”

Peter does not respond to the statement, instead once again simply tilting his head in slight confusion.

“Well, let’s get something to eat, Pete,” Tony says, extending his hand for the boy to take.

Peter takes his hand. As he leads him into the kitchen, placing him onto a kitchen stool, Tony realizes that he does not have much food on his own floor. He usually eats on the common floor the rest of the team eats on. This floor only has the basic, boring stuff. Granola bars, containers of fruit, probably some yogurt.

“Hm,” Tony hums, looking in a cabinet. “What was HYDRA feeding you? You can’t be that picky.” He looks toward the boy, noticing him eyeing the package of granola bars warily. “You’re awfully skinny too, they must not be giving you enough, we’ll start small, yeah? So we don’t upset your stomach?” he says mostly to himself, grabbing a granola bar. He opens the packaging and hands it to the boy.

Peter looks at the bar in confusion. His gaze switches rapidly from the food to Tony himself, as if unaware of what to do with it, and afraid he may do the wrong thing, like the soap from last night.

“You can eat it, buddy.” Tony says, grabbing a bar for himself and munching away. Even watching the older man eat a similar bar, Peter remains hesitant to eat. He grips the bar in both hands, and then begins breaking it into tiny pieces.

Tony watches the scene go on in front of him as he tries to figure out what exactly is happening. Peter continues breaking the bar into smaller and smaller pieces, until the table in front of him is covered in the food. He then scoops all the pieces into one big pile, and clenches his fist around it, creating a bigger and more round clump of a granola bar.

 _Does he not know how to eat?_ Tony thinks to himself, watching the boy create a fist and starts pounding the clump down into the counter. _Or… not want to?_

He decides that this is, in fact, not his area of expertise. Tony has to ask the others for help. He is unsure of how well Peter will respond to having so many people around him at once. Decides to call Natasha… and maybe Bruce. The others can wait.

XXXXXXXXXXX

When Bruce and Natasha finally arrive to Tony’s floor, Tony has eaten four granola bars, and Peter has managed to make a smooth, round granola circle that is almost seeped into the counter.

When the boy spots the guests, he leaps right out his seat and rushes to stand behind Tony. Tony awkwardly smiles at the two, before turning to Peter.

“It’s okay, Peter. These are friends of mine. Bruce and Natasha. Bruce is the smartest person I know, and Natasha is the coolest. They’re only here to help you like I am.” he calmly explains.

Natasha and Bruce walk further into the room, the latter holding a box full of unknown items. At Tony’s questioning look, Bruce drops the box onto the counter so he can see into it.

Inside the box contained several items, some which came as a surprise to Tony, others not. There were the things he had expected to arrive, such as children clothes and toys he figured Pepper would have included in the order. Other items in the box slightly confused Tony. There were several bottles of Ensure, some protein power, and ingredients that Tony is unfamiliar with.

“What’s this?” he asks, looking to the two for answers.

Natasha looks hesitantly toward Peter before answering. “Maybe we should talk in another room.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Tony replies.

Before Natasha can answer the man, Bruce begins to address Peter. “Hi,” he says quietly, bending over to be closer to Peter’s face, which is mostly hidden behind Tony’s legs. “I’m Bruce. I like what you did to the counter,” he says, nodding towards the squished clump of granola on the table.

Peter peeks around from Tony’s leg and glances at the man. His fingers have once again trailed to his mouth and he has begun to suck on them. He looks to the counter, where he had abandoned his project in his haste to escape the unknown threats. He glances back to Bruce, seeing that the man has no anger or deceit in his eyes, and slowly recoils from Tony.

“Do you want to keep playing with me while Tony talks to Natasha for a minute?” Bruce asks. “I can make you a yummy drink,” he points towards the box. “Maybe get you into some clothes that fit, instead of that giant shirt, eh?”

Peter looks up at Tony, his hand curling in the fabric of the man’s pants. “It’ll be alright, bud.” Tony reassures. “I’ll just be in the next room with Natasha, and Bruce will take good care of you.”

Slowly, Peter’s hand begins to release the fabric. Natasha steps towards Tony’s bedroom, expecting the man to follow, and with a parting glance to the boy, Tony does.

When he steps into the room, Natasha shuts the door behind them, cutting off the sight of Peter hesitantly making his way back to the kitchen table.

“What’s so important that I’ve been blessed with your presence in my very own sleeping chambers, my lady?” Tony says, putting on his best Thor impersonation.

“Can it, Stark. I’m here to help.” she replies.

“Helping by telling Fury everything that’s going on so he can get his way?” Tony accuses, remembering her past deception.

“Helping by giving you these,” she defends herself, reaching for a paper that Tony previously had not noticed.

“I don’t like to”- before he can finish his sentence she slaps the paper down on the dresser beside them with a pointed look to the man. “be handed… things.”

Tony glances to the paper sitting atop of the dresser. At the top of the page, an arrangement of numbers are written.

1.18.20.8.18.15.16.15.4.

“Are those supposed to mean something?” he asks.

“Bruce suspects they correlate with the English alphabet. I agree. If examined by the appropriate letter, the numbers spell out ‘arthropod.” she explains.

Tony examines the numbers himself before coming to a realization. “Is this Peter’s file from HYDRA?” he asks.

“Not all of it. Only what had been leaked after D.C,” Natasha answers. “They must have kept paper files, wanted to keep him under the radar.” She goes silent for a moment before lowering her voice. “This information is no longer on any database. Only we have access to it”

She wiped the data before Fury could find it. Or any other SHIELD agent. “Thank you,” he says gratefully.

“There isn’t much there, but there’s enough. They weren’t giving him solid foods.” she explains. “That’s why he won’t eat. He isn’t used to eating it, probably has never seen anything like it.”

“How the hell was he getting enough nutrients?” Tony asks. “Surely they weren’t giving him protein shakes for every meal.” he says.

“Well, that’s the thing. He wasn’t getting nearly as much nutrients as he needs. According to the file, his metabolism is way too fast for an average kid, it burns nearly three times as fast.” Natasha gently explains. “They had him primarily hooked on IV drips to just pass on what he needs to function. He’s been going hungry the entire time he was with them.”

“So that granola bar… he didn’t know it was food? He saw me eating them, too.” Tony mentions, confused.

“I can’t know for sure what was going through his brain, Tony,” she reprimands. “He could have not put two-and-two together. Maybe he didn’t realize you both had the same thing. Most probable, they probably told him he wasn’t able to eat, so he never did, thinks he doesn’t need to.”

“Or isn’t allowed.” Tony says.

“Or that.” she agrees. “Good thing is, they must have been giving him liquids. He doesn’t have a problem with drinking things given to him.” They both think to the other night, when Natasha had tricked Peter into drinking the sedative.

“What else is on the file?” Tony asks, glancing at the paper.

“Like I said before; there isn’t much on it. How he was getting nutrients, how they came to acquire him, Richard’s research and how they managed to perfect it with Peter,” she mentions. “And lastly, the limits of his abilities.”

“Which are?” Tony inquires. She points to the section of the paper which lists his abilities, which he scans over. “Jesus,” he mutters, reading over the extensive list. “Enhanced nearly everything. How’d they test this, huh?” he asks, thinking about the only true way one can know about the nature of these abilities, particularly healing time and durability. As he reads, his eyes flicker to a side note.

_Elaborate measures taken to test if Subject would be able to eject webbing similar to a arachnid. Trials were proven unsuccessful in all tested areas of the body, though results had begun to form in Subject’s wrists. After multiple failed attempts on the wrists due to Subject’s amount of blood-loss, testing for spider webbing result in failure._

“Blood loss,” Tony mutters, reading the note over several times. “They wanted him to be able to shoot webs from his fucking wrists, so they chopped up his wrists multiple times before realizing he would sooner bleed out before they could do it.” Feeling disgusted, he looks away from the page.

“It explains the state of his wrists,” Natasha says calmly. “I know it’s hard reading about things they put a child through, but it helps us figure out how to truly care for him.”

“Yeah.” Tony hesitantly agrees, before remembering another concern about the boy he had. “He barely speaks, too.” he mentions. “Is there a reason you can think for that?”

“Again, I can’t truly be sure, Tony.” she says. “Believe it or not, I’m not an expert at all things child-torture related. They could have forbid him from talking, and he doesn’t feel safe talking.”

“Or maybe he simply never truly learned how to, being punished for saying anything.” Tony suggests.

“Has he not said anything yet?” Natasha inquires.

“He’s said a few things. ‘Good’ and ‘boy’ and my name sans the ’T’. That’s about it.” he tells her. “He mouths things a bit, like he wants to say it but can’t figure out how.”

“If you’re truly willing to take this on, Tony, then we’ll work on it.” she says, placing a hand on his arm. “We’re all on your side. We can help. You have to trust us with this.”

“I do.” Tony says. Even he believes it, now. Natasha retrieved him information about the boy before ensuring nobody else could find it. “And I want to take this on. He doesn’t have anybody else,” he explains. “Nobody should have to go through anything, let alone a recovery such as this, with nobody in his corner.”

“Okay. Then we’ll be here for you, and for Peter.” she says. “We’ll slowly introduce him to the team, have one or two of us come by everyday. That way he isn’t overwhelmed and can process things, yeah?” she suggests.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s good.” Tony says. “Thank you for this, really.” He takes the paper and quickly folds it and places it in his pocket.

With the paper placed away, there is a silent agreement that this is the end of the conversation, and they both begin walking to the kitchen.

Stepping into the room, Tony observes what he is seeing in silent confusion. Peter is now sitting on the couch, dressed in more age-appropriate clothing, sipping on a smoothie with god knows what in it. He is watching the TV with a look of slight awe. It is playing an animated show Tony is unaware of, assuming JARVIS had found it and deemed it safe for the boy’s eyes.

That isn’t what confuses Tony. What puts him off of his tracks is the absence of Bruce. He is not in either the living room nor the kitchen.

Tony walks toward Peter, catching the boy’s attention as his gaze leaves the colourful characters on the television. and crouches down next to him. “Hey bud, how’s the smoothie?” he asks, not expecting a response from the boy. “Do you know where Bruce went?”

Peter looks confused and tilts his head at Tony. He points his hand to the ceiling.

“What are you pointing to, Pete?” he says, following the direction of the finger. He sees nothing.

“I believe, Sir,” JARVIS informs him, “That Peter is trying to tell you that Dr. Banner had to step out of the room, once making Peter a smoothie and making sure he was safe. I promised him that I would inform you if there were trouble, though Peter simply drank his smoothie and I have introduced him to the StoryBots.”

“Oh… kay.” Tony drawls out. “Do we know _why_ Bruce decided to leave Peter alone with a smoothie and the StoryBots?” he asks.

“I believe he was having a bit of a _green problem_ , Sir, and wished to be alone for that.” JARVIS says.

A green problem? The Hulk? What could have happened with Peter that would have upset Bruce like that?

As so to not alarm Peter, Tony gives Natasha a concerning look. “J, can you send Steve or Clint to go hang out with Bruce? I’m sure he’s lonely now that he doesn’t have Peter to hang out with.” Natasha asks, giving Peter a small smile.

Peter gives her a funny look. As if he is unable to read what she wants from him. This is, in fact, a big difference to the way she acted the other night. Tony decides that if she is going to be able to help, Peter needs to realize that she, too, only wants the best for him.

“C’mon, Nat,” he says, “let’s watch some Bot Stories with Peter.” He sits beside the boy, creating a wall between him and the empty seat he begins to pat, inviting her to sit.

“StoryBots, sir.” JARVIS corrects him.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m sure it’s great.” he says. She looks conflicted, as if she would rather go check on Bruce, but rather elects to sit in the offered seat.

An hour, a two smoothies, and 4 episodes of singing robots teaching about random things later, Tony thinks he might actually pull his hair out. Begins to wonder that if this is what he has signed up for, he would like a refund, please.

Just as another episode begins to play, and Tony believes he may actually explode, JARVIS pipes up, turning everyone’s attention away from the screen. “Sir, Dr. Banner is asking for your opinion on how to cook dinner for tonight, and would like you to meet him in the Common Area”

“My… what?” he says back. “Why the hell is he assuming I can cook?” he asks, before a sharp pinch in his side and Natasha’s warning glance down at Peter brings him to a realization. “Oh! Yes. The tacos. Only I know how to make the best tacos. I should go do that. Will you stay with Peter? Does that sound okay with you, bud?” he asks both of them.

Peter looks up at Natasha, then glances back at the TV. His face distorts in a look of disappointment, before looking back up at Tony.

“I can stay with you, Peter. We can watch more StoryBots. I’m really learning a lot.” Natasha says, smiling at the boy, causing the little boy’s face to light up.

“Awesome, you two have fun doing that. Now i’ll just… go check on those tacos.” Tony says. “See you soon, alright buddy?” he gently touches Peter’s arm, before mouthing a thanks to Natasha before leaving the room.

In the elevator, Tony starts to talk. “It’s bad that I’m feeling relieved, right? That’s bad? Those robots are ridiculous, right?” he says.

“I’m not sure, Sir. personally, I find that Bing and Boop are very interesting and have a great amount of knowledge.” JARVIS replies.

“Oh, shut up.” Tony snaps. “What really happened that make Bruce go Hulk on us?”

“There was an incident while Dr. Banner was dressing Peter in the clothes Miss Potts had ordered.” JARVIS replies.

“What kind of incident?” He asks, right before the elevator arrives at the Common Floor and the doors open, revealing Bruce.

“Hey, Tony. Look, I’m sorry for leaving Peter there. I was taken aback, I had to leave in case something happened.” Bruce desperately tries to explain.

“Hey, hey. Relax, big guy.” Tony says. “It’s not your fault. It’s better you left. Nobody needed Peter to get even more traumatized by some giant green rage monster he watched transform.”

Bruce snorts. “Yeah. But still. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.”

“What happened? What did he do?” Tony asks the doctor.

“He didn’t really _do_ anything. He just reacted.” Bruce says.

“Yeeaah, I’m going to need a little more.” he replies, still very lost.

“I was helping him change into the new clothes, yeah? And I took off that shirt he was wearing, put the new one on him, no big deal. But once i got to the pants, my hand must have… brushed too close, right? And his reaction, Tony.” Bruce says, looking devastated. “It was like he was… relieved? Like he had been expecting something to happen and it finally was.”

“Like… he was expecting something to happen.” Tony repeats back.

“He just went so still, and his eyes almost faded away, like he was dissociating, but then I placed the pants in place and he just got more confused.” Bruce continues. “I was freaking out, Tony, but I sat him down and made him that damn smoothie and JARVIS put on that show, but I had to get out. I was losing control,” he rambles on.

“Hang on, hang on. He expected you would do that to him.” Tony says for the second time.

“Yes. I was caught off guard, I got upset, and I just was getting angrier and angrier for what they had done to that poor kid.”

“Expected… that you would…” Tony says, almost in a trance.

“Tony, I think they were sexually abusing him” Bruce explains.

And with that, Tony’s world is shattered in tiny pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I had to watch an episode of StoryBots for this. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and like always, please leave any reviews/comments/feedback, it's always welcome! Thanks!


	5. leave what's heavy behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title comes from Heavy by Birdtalker.
> 
> so sorry for the late-ish chapter! I hope it's worth it! 
> 
> TW for this chapter: Slight talk of child sexual abuse.

Tony is seeing red.

“Sexually abused,” Tony repeated back to him, surprised that he had not realized himself. “Those bastards couldn’t leave one part of the kid alone, couldn’t they.”

“As horrible as it sounds, its not surprising. They take what they want and they don’t care about the wellbeing of others. You know this, Tony,” Bruce replied.

“I should have figured it out sooner,” Tony states, feeling his pulse begin to increase. “He- he didn’t want me to take his pants off last night when he… I took them off anyway, oh god, I’m just like them, Bruce, I”-

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Tony.” Bruce said. “You didn’t touch him in any way that made him uncomfortable, right?”

“Not that I know of!” he yells. “How am i supposed to know! He won’t talk! He thinks we’re going to hurt him! I’m trying my best, Bruce, but I’m so out of my depths here! I’m letting him come to me, making sure he knows he can always move away, but”-

“Then you’re doing everything that can be done right now,” Bruce says calmly. “He doesn’t understand true kindness, Tony. Maybe some of them were kind to him only to hurt him later. Maybe nobody has ever come close to treating him the way that you do. He’s just trying to figure things out.”

“I’m going to kill all of them.” he growls.

“I’m sure everyone would like to join you on that,” Bruce gently states, placing an arm of his shoulder. “I know the other guy sure wants to. But for now, you need to focus on what can make Peter feel safe. Learn with him.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I can do that,” Tony takes a deep breath. “I need to calm down before I go back up.”

“Take your time. Go when you’re ready. I’m going to the lab, call me if you need anything, okay?” Bruce says. “ _Anything._ ”

“Yeah, sure, you got it, Brucie.” Tony says, sitting down and putting his face in his hands.

Honestly, Fuck HYDRA.

XXXXXXXXXXX

After returning to his floor, Tony is greeted to the sight of Peter sleeping on the couch, one hand lightly gripping his spill-proof smoothie cup, the other hovering over his mouth, which is gently sucking on his thumb.

“Is he too old for a pacifier?” Natasha asks, watching the boy devour his finger. “Because that cannot be good for him.”

“Listen,” Tony whispers, making sure his voice is low enough to not wake Peter. “Bruce told me what he Hulked out for. Apparently the kid was expecting him to, I don’t know, molest him? Do something worse? I don’t know, but he was expecting sexual abuse and he seemed glad it was finally happening.”

Natasha looks directly into Tony’s eyes. “That’s not surprising, Tony. HYDRA does what they want, and they wanted to completely control Peter, make him theirs. That involves every aspect, body, mind, soul.”

“I want them dead.” he says. “Can you find them?”

“I can try. There isn’t much to go on. They must know by now that we’ve taken the boy. They have no reason to go back there. But I’ll try,” she responds.

“Leave them for me,” he demands.

“We need information. I’ll get that and then they’re all yours.” she says, looking down at the sleeping child. “Clint and I will head out tonight.”

“Thank you,” Tony says, looking at the boy himself. Sleeping like this, Peter looks no different than any other child. Not a trace of worry on his little face, hand gripping onto the sip cup, no evidence of how he has spent the last four years.

“It’ll be okay, Tony,” Natasha whispers. “We got him out early. He’s young. He can learn ways that aren’t what HYDRA’s.” With that, she gives his arm a slight pat and walks out of the room, no doubt going to inform Clint of what they have ahead.

Tony sits at the kitchen island and keeps an eye on Peter as he eats whatever he can find left in his empty apartment. He spots a near perfectly molded clump of granola on the counter in front of him, and wonders exactly how long it took the boy to perfect it.

Minutes after Tony finishes eating, he hears a small whimper coming from the couch. When he looks up, Peter is staring at him, bottom lip trembling, legs curled up to press against his chest.

“Hey buddy. What’s up? Did you have a nightmare?” he asks, moving slowly towards the boy.

Peter looks confused and slowly begins to whimper again. When Tony moves closer, he notices that the boy is slightly shaking from head to toe where he lies. “You gotta help me out here, bud. I don’t know what you need.”

“Sir, if I may,” JARVIS pipes up, “Peter’s heart rate has been vastly increasing since he has awoken twelve minutes and forty three seconds ago,” he says, telling Tony that it is most likely not a nightmare, “and according to my data, has not used the bathroom since his accident last night.”

“Oh, shit.” Tony curses, not bothering to cover the word in his panic. During his encounter with JARVIS, Peter had ducked his head in to join his knees in the tiny ball he had made. “Pete,” Tony encourages, causing the boy to lift his head and look at the older man. “Do you need to use the bathroom? Gotta pee?” he asks. Peter’s eyes begin to water as he quickly nods his head.

“Okay, okay, not a problem, let’s just go into the bathroom, alright? We can pee in there,” he quickly says, encouraging the boy to get up. Peter slowly uncurls from his ball, before standing upright, thought his legs cross together as if he were seconds away from pissing his pants.

“Oh god, okay, okay, here, can I pick you up?” he asks. After receiving Peter’s nod and seeing his arms raise to allow Tony access to his waist, he does not hesitate before picking the boy up and sprinting into the closest bathroom.

When they enter the bathroom, Tony quickly notices that Peter is too small to reach the toilet himself, and he does not know if the boy would be comfortable to have Tony holding him up while relives himself, so he does the only thing he can think of in the limited time he has.

He places Peter in the bathtub.

Once Tony lets go, it is like the last twelve minutes of silent torture his bladder has been giving him had been too much, and Peter wets himself right in the tub with his pants still on.

Before the kid can begin to cry, which Tony sees is vastly approaching due to his watering eyes and trembling chin, the man rushes to reassure him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay Peter, nobody is mad, there was no mess, you made it to the tub and we can just wash you here, yeah? I’ll go get you a new pair of pants, these ones can be washed, yeah? Everything is perfectly fine.”

After spending almost an hour both calming Peter down, bathing him, and redressing him, all the while being very careful not to touch any part of the boy that could be taken wrongly, Tony has a freshly dressed, clean boy standing in front of him.

“…Good?” Peter whispers, examining Tony.

“Yeah, buddy, everything’s good,” he smiles at the boy.

“Sir, Captain Rogers is in the living room,” JARVIS informs him.

Tony hesitates, looking at the boy in front of him. “Do you want to have a guest, bud? Steve is here, he’s friends with Natasha, Bruce, and I.”

Peter looks hesitant, but slowly reaches for Tony’s hand, gripping onto it with his much smaller one, before nodding.

Steve is in the living room, examining a bottle of Ensure he had taken out of the box, reading the label. When he sees his company and their intertwined fingers, he smiles.

“Hey Tony.” he says.

“Hey, Cap. Need anything?” Tony asks.

“Oh. No. I just wanted to know if you two wanted to hang out, I don’t know. Natasha and Clint had to go on a trip and Bruce is in the lab so I’m all alone,” he says, before looking down at the boy beside Tony. “Hi Peter. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Steve,” he smiles at the child.

Tony looks down at Peter. The young boy is staring at Steve with large rounded eyes, though not with any fear or doubt.

“How about we see what’s in that big box, huh?” Tony asks.

“I’m sure there are lots of things you can play with, Peter,” Steve says, gazing into the box.

Laying out the items in the box, separating the clothes and the food from the toys, which they placed on the floor to examine, the two men look at Peter to see which he would go to first. The boy looks overwhelmed, looking at the items on the floor, which he likely has no idea what the purposes of are.

“Which one do you think you like the best, Pete? We can try that one first,” Tony tries. Peter still does not move towards any toy.

“What about a stuffed animal? Maybe you want a friend to play with? Steve attempts next, picking up a stuffed elephant and shaking it slightly.

Peter remains silent where he is sitting crossed legged on the floor, opposite the men and the pile of toys. Steve begins to speak, but is stopped by Tony’s glare. Let him go to it, he hopes it says, but honestly probably is being taken as _elephants? really?_

Either way, Steve remains silent and the two pretend like they are not watching Peter like hawks. Slowly, just as he did while determining the safety of approaching Tony, Peter moves to the pile of toys. Probably due to the fact that Steve suggested the stuffed animals, Peter goes to them first.

Pepper seriously did not hold back. There are a dozen stuffed animals, all different animals, ranging from the elephant Steve picked up to a small stuffed bee. Peter looks at the animals, examining every one closely, much too close for that of a child, until his eyes lock curiously on a medium sized sloth toy. He tilts his head at it, as if curious about the brown fur covering it’s entire body, before slowly picking it up.

If you’d ask Tony, that is the ugliest one out of the pile. It doesn’t look much like a sloth, but rather a large wooly mammoth. Still, Peter decides to pick up that one first. When he picks it up, he starts slightly when he squeezes and it lets out a squeak that is probably the sound a sloth would make. Before Tony can reassure him and tell the kid that it is supposed to do that and he doesn’t have to like it, Peter gives him the biggest surprise yet.

He _giggles_.

It is the cutest and most pure sound that has ever graced Tony’s ears.

Right after he releases it, Peter’s eyes shoot up to test Tony’s reaction. When he sees Tony’s shocked and proud smile, he looks back at the animal. He squeezes the animal a few more times and then very quietly attempts to recreate the noise himself before giggling again.

It makes Tony’s heart ache.

Cuddling up to the sloth, Peter begins looking at the other toys at Steve’s suggestion. His eyes scan over a complex looking puzzle.

“That looks pretty complicated, bud,” Tony says, about to suggest he find something more appropriate for a child who is obviously behind in learning skills. Before he can continue, Peter takes the puzzle in his hand and observes it. He looks at the picture of what it would look like solved, and begins to move it, holding the sloth in the crook of his elbow.

Tony looks at Steve for help. He doesn’t know what reaction Peter may have if he does not solve the puzzle, if he might think he failed a task, if he thinks he’ll get punished for it, if he-

“Good job, Peter!” Steve praises. Tony looks over, and right before his eyes, after only a minute or two, Peter has solved a complicated puzzle made for adults.

He lets out a laugh. “Well, aren’t you a little genius, huh?” he says, watching Peter’s eyes glow with the praise.

“His father was really smart too, wasn’t he?” Steve asks.

Tony looks at Peter, who will never get to know his father. Who may or may not even know what a father is. Who is simply pleased by praise by a stranger, because it is better than punishment.

“Yeah. He sure was.”

Peter squeezes the sloth once more.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Tony spends his night researching.

Which, in context, is not that different from what he has done countless times in the past.

This time, however, is different. For the information Tony looks up on have less to do with thermonuclear astrophysics and more with how to care for a child who can barely talk, who’s been abused in basically every way imaginable, and is untrusting towards pretty much everybody. He doesn’t learn much.

Firstly, he needs the kid to be able to tell him when he needs to pee. After a discussion with Bruce, the two of them decided HYDRA had likely made set times Peter had to use the bathroom, leaving the boy no opportunity to express his need to urinate.

Secondly, he needs to get Peter to truly believe he is safe at the tower, with Tony and the Avengers.

Tony looks at the boy who is currently asleep in his corner of the bedroom, clutching his stuffed animal as if it would be ripped from him at any time. Making the kid comfortable enough to sleep in a bed is a big one. Maybe he should get a bed appropriate for his size, maybe then he would feel safe in it.

Thirdly, he should find a way to teach the kid some things, to get him up to his age level of speaking, reading, and writing. Speaking, Bruce had said, will likely come with his comfort levels around Tony.

At around one in the morning, just as Tony is dozing off, his phone begins to ring. With a quick glance at Peter, who had awoken by the sound as well and is slowly climbing the wall, one sloth arm stuck in his mouth to keep a grip on it as he moves. Tony answers.

“ _Stark,_ ” he is greeted with Natasha’s voice.

“Have you found anything?” he asks.

“ _Surprisingly, yes. There was a man at the base. Claims he was working with HYDRA against his own will. Threatened his family, likely story._ ” she informs him.

“Did he know anything about… you know what?” he says quieter, hoping the boy cannot hear him.

“ _Claims he does, a lot actually, but also says he never hurt Peter. Felt bad for the kid, always wished he could take him and run._ ”

“Well, why didn’t he?!” Tony shouts, watching Peter flinch against the wall. He covers the mouthpiece of his phone and whispers “sorry buddy, not you, sorry, try to go back to sleep.”

“ _I told you - he claims they threatened his family. He puts them above Peter._ ”

“Do you believe him?” he asks.

“ _I don’t think so. He doesn’t strike me as the normal HYDRA goon, either, so I can’t be sure._ ” she says.

“ _He won’t give me his real name, either, which is a major strike one_.” Clint pipes in, obviously listening over her shoulder. “ _Prick expects us to believe his real name is ‘Bubba_ ’”.

A small gasp is let out in the corner and the sloth falls to the ground. Peter jumps down after the sloth, but instead of picking it up, he scurries over to where Tony is sitting. He stops directly in front of Tony, eyes trained on the phone, fists clenching as if he wants to grab it, and let’s out a small “Bubba?”

Oh, fuck. Tony had forgotten about the super hearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading guys! I had lost all direction with this but after sitting up all night and making notes I have so many plans! 
> 
> Please comment or leave feedback like always, it's much appreciated!


	6. who the hell is bubba

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! SO sorry this is so late, like more than a week late, my reasoning is that I decided to just not do it sooner i'm sorry. 
> 
> TW:  
> This chapter makes references and has a brief discussion of sexual assault on a child.  
> This chapter makes references to torture and experimentation on a child  
> This chapter also has a character experience an anxiety attack, so be warned if that is a trigger.

Tony regrets making Natasha even go to that HYDRA base. Or maybe, rather, he wishes he had gone himself and blown it up before she could find anybody.

The reasoning for this, of course, being that Peter has been unable to focus on any kind of distraction Tony throws his way. He shows no interest in his stuffed sloth, nor any television show, and is currently beginning to throw his smoothie cup across the room in distress.

“Hey, please don’t throw things, Peter,” Steve pipes up from his place on the couch beside the boy, and places his own hand on the cup. Tony is watching him from where he has been pacing the past hour, after giving up any hope that Peter would accept a distraction and would stop thinking about this ‘Bubba’ guy.

He sighs. “C’mon, Pete, you need to drink that. We need to get you healthy, you’re too small,” he says to the boy, sighing once more before continuing his endless pacing.

“Where Bubba?” Peter asks. If there was one good thing that came out of this situation, it was that Peter seems more interest in talking now. After taking an obedient sip from his smoothie, and receiving a light praise for drinking, he gets a response from Steve.

“Peter, did Bubba hurt you while you were with HYDRA?” he asks gently. Peter’s eyes get large and round, and he tilts his head, facial expression giving the most genuine confusion one can express without using words.

“Bubba loves spider,” Peter mumbles, taking another sip from his drink.

Tony halts in his step and looks at the small kid resting on his couch. There could be many different reasons Peter thinks Bubba loves him. He doesn’t know or remember being shown true love, could definitely be one. Any small act of kindness shown by the man could be love in Peter’s eyes. Another reason could potentially be that Bubba has told him that he has loved him, and maybe even… taken advantage of him.

 _Or maybe_ , the rational side of Tony’s brain thinks, _he is truly telling the truth and tried to do some good for Peter._

He doesn’t know which one bothers him the most, and instantly hates himself for thinking that. Of course, Tony would be glad to know Peter was at least shown some form of kindness while with those monsters. However, the thought that some part of Peter would always link HYDRA to the first form of love he has ever known cuts deep into Tony’s soul.

“He loves you?” Steve asks. “Peter, I know this might be confusing, but sometimes, there are different kinds of hurting,” he calmly tries to explain.

Peter shakes his head at the blond man. “Bubba take care of spider.”

Steve sighs. “Okay. Listen, Peter. HYDRA hurt you, yeah?” he asks, waiting until Peter hesitantly nods.

“Don’t like expir…pir…ments,” he mumbles, curling into himself.

“It’s okay, Peter, nobody here wants to do that to you. It’s okay to tell us that you hurt, okay? We don’t want you to hurt.” Steve carefully explains.

Peter looks at Tony, as if seeking the truth behind the bigger man’s statement.

“It’s true, buddy,” he takes the steps it takes to reach the couch, and crouches down so he is face to face with Peter’s deep brown eyes. Ever so slowly, he brings his hand to cup Peter’s cheek. With sharp and cautious eyes, much too cautious for a child, Peter tracks Tony’s movements, flinching ever so slightly at the contact, before relaxing into the touch.

Peter’s hand comes up to rest against Tony’s, keeping the man’s palm against his cheek. Both men watch as his eyes flutter close, and Peter lets out a small whimper, pressing Tony’s hand to be completely flat against a good portion of his face.

Tony wonders if anybody has ever touched the boy’s face, before venturing off into curiosity about just how touch starved this little boy is. Taking a shot in the dark, Tony brings his other hand to the other cheek. Reacting as quickly as though he were shot, Peter’s smoothie cup falls to the ground, and his remaining hand mirrors the other. This time, he lets out a small sob, and Tony watches as his closed lids are clenched shut, water surrounding the edges, as if he were fighting to hold back the tears.

“It’s okay,” Tony whispers, thumb stroking the boy’s eyebrow. “You’re allowed to cry, Peter.”

As if receiving permission were the last straw, the boy lets out a huge sob, eyes opening only to release a large stream of built up tears, and for the first time since finding the boy, Tony is watching him fully cry. As if thinking he were bothering the two men near him with his noises, Peter brings a hand to his mouth to stifle the noises coming out, and despite them telling him there is no need, the boy keeps his mouth firmly shut.

Tony continues to stroke his thumb along the boy’s face, moving the hand Peter is no longer touching to his hair, and strokes that as well. He doesn’t know what to say, and surely does not think shushing the boy would do any good, so he remains quiet.

After minutes and minutes of this act, right as Tony begins to believe this will never stop, and Peter has finally broken, the broken and covered sobs stop, and the boy lets out a few small sniffles, and releases his mouth. When the flow of tears finally come to a stop, Tony wipes away the tears from the boy’s face.

Peter sniffles. “M’… M’ sorry, sir, sorry sorry sorry, M’sorry, sir,” he whispers.

“No, no no no, don’t do that, don’t apologize, kid, please don’t apologize for crying, okay? You cry whenever you want to cry,” he basically begs the child, still stroking his hair.

Peter is silent for a minute, and then two, besides the occasional sniff, before quietly mumbling, “Bubba loves spider, ‘Nee.”

Tony sighs. “Okay, bud.”

“He… he don’t cut up spider and he let spider drink juice! Nobody else did!” he says, pressing his own palm to Tony’s cheek before repeating. “He don’t cut, ‘Nee.”

 _Jesus Christ_. “I’m glad he didn’t cut, Peter. Nobody has the right to cut you up.”

“Peter,” Steve speaks for the first time since the crying began. “Even though he didn’t cut you… did he… hurt you in any other way?”

“No hurting spider,” Peter shakes his head.

“Not at all? Did he hit you? Not give you any food when you were hungry? Did he… did he touch you the way you thought Bruce was going to the other day?” Steve asks again.

“Bubba… he hit when spider was bad.” Peter says as if it were obvious. “Didn’t hurt.”

“Peter,” Tony sighs. “Hitting people is bad, and it hurts them, even if not as much as the cutting did.”

“Uh uh,” Peter shakes his head again. “‘Loves spider.”

“Okay, Peter. I’m sure he does love you, okay?” Steve says to the currently shaking boy. Tony gives Steve a look of disgust. _What the hell?_ he mouths over the boy’s head. “I’m sure you feel like he does, right Peter?” At the boy’s nod, he continues. “He was the only person there who ever treated you nice, huh?”

Tony watches Steve calm Peter down, and begins to understand what is happening here. If this man was the only person who had _ever_ treated him well, in the entire time the boy has been alive, surely he will overlook being hit to continue receiving the kind treatment.

“But, Peter,” At this, Steve places his hand upon Peter’s head, alongside Tony’s. “Sometimes, people treat you nicely because they want to hurt you in another way.”

If anything, Peter looks more confused than before. He glances to Tony, who is trying himself to figure out a way to explain manipulation to the boy in a way he would understand.

“Okay,” Tony begins. “It’s like, Bubba knew they were hurting you, right?” At Peter’s nod, he continues, “So, he was seeing that you had nobody to care for you, so he decided to do it.” Tony says. Seeing no hints of confusion on the boy’s face, he decides to carry on.

“However, he was kind to you, but then, would hit you and sometimes become angry at you? Did that happen? Did he ever tell you that you owed him things for him being nice to you?” Tony asks.

“S-s-sp…spider was bad.”

“It doesn’t matter what you did, Peter, they never had any right to hit you,” Tony insists.

Peter’s breaths begin to quicken as he retreats back into himself, curling into a ball on the couch and slightly rocking. He mumbles “bad, bad, bad,” very quietly as he raises his thumb up, extending his pointer and middle finger out in the shape of a gun, before raising it to his head and pulling the trigger. “Bad spider.” There are no questions the two men have for what this means.

_Be good or HYDRA will put you down._

How many times had Peter had a gun planted at his head in threat? Had they demonstrated with other people? Animals? Taught Peter that if he disobeyed, he wasn’t worth their time and effort.

“You’re a good boy, Peter,” Tony says. When Peter’s panicked eyes look up at him, he firmly keeps his gaze on the kid. “You will always be a good boy. We will never hurt you, or even think about it here.”

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Steve says suddenly, getting up and hurrying to the elevator door, letting Tony wonder what the hell he was doing as the doors slide shut behind him.

“Bad?” Peter says, eyes looking towards the empty space Steve had resided in.

“No. He just stepped out for a second. You’re being so good, Peter,” Tony says.

There is silence for a few moments while Tony picks up Peter’s long forgotten smoothie off the floor, thanking Pepper silently for getting all spill proof cups, before Peter speaks up again.

“…Where Bubba?”

Tony sighs. “Look, bud. I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to see him.”

Peter whimpers but says nothing.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t be upset, okay? I know you think he loves you, and cares about you, but sometimes people say things they don’t mean. The fact he was hitting you makes me believe he didn’t mean that, buddy,” Tony tries his best to explain. “Because we care about you, here. Steve cares about you. Bruce and Natasha care. We have another friend, his name is Thor, but he isn’t here right now, but I know he would love you,” he pauses as Peter moves, curling his finger around his bottom lip whilst he looks at the man. “And, I know this for sure, I care about you, Peter.”

Peter drops his gaze, looking at Tony’s lap instead of his eyes. “D-D-Do… Do you…?” Peter begins to say, stutter increasing with that sentence.

“Do I what, bud?” Tony encourages.

“Like Bubba? Care like Bubba?” Peter asks, looking up at Tony’s face.

“I care, Peter. We all care about you. Probably much more than Bubba does, okay?” he replies.

Peter scrunches his nose, displaying some kind of emotion Tony cannot place, before lowering his gaze and nodding, either to Tony or to himself. Then, ever so slowly, does the exact thing Tony had prayed to whatever kind of god is out there would never happen.

He places the hand he isn’t currently chewing on right over Tony’s crotch.

Tony jumps back, which frightens the boy enough he jerks his hand back. With some distance in between the two now, Peter face curls up in obvious confusion, similar to what Bruce had described of his encounter with the boy.

After taking as long as possible to contain himself without scaring the kid into thinking he was in trouble, Tony sighs, runs his hands through his hair, and begins to console the boy.

“Peter… we don’t do that. That’s not good, okay?” At those words, Peter’s eyes snap up to Tony’s face and he sucks in a breath, most likely fearing some kind of punishment.

“Not you, you aren’t bad, Peter. But you shouldn’t do that, okay? Nobody wants that from you,” he tries to explain. “You never have to do that again, I promise.”

Peter slightly shakes his head at the man. “But… ‘Nee cares ‘bout spider…?” he mumbles around the fingers he is still sucking on.

“I do care about you, I really do. And it’s because I care about you that I don’t want you to do that for me. Did Bubba make you do that for him?” he asks.

Peter nods. Barely containing his anger, heart rate steadily increasing and voice wavering, Tony continues. “That… that isn’t what we do to children we care about, Peter. We don’t hurt people we care about, remember?”

“Did-Didn’t _hurt_ , ‘Nee,” Peter whispers.

“He made you touch him, is that it?” Tony asks, voice shaking. Peter hesitates before shaking his head. Feeling like the goddamn shrapnel has pierced through his heart, Tony closes his eyes, places a hand over his chest, and asks, “He touched you?”

“B-B-Bubba, h-he t-touch and, and, spider touch him, ‘Nee, and, and he puts spider’s m-mouth on…” he trails off, as if unsure how to explain the situation to the man.

“Oh my god,” he whispers. Taking a deep breath, he says, “Peter, please, please, listen to me. What Bubba did to you? It was bad. It was so, so, bad. HYDRA hurt you in an obvious way, they cut you up and were mean to you. But Bubba, what he was doing was just as bad, buddy. He has no right to do that to you. Even though it didn’t hurt, it still made you feel bad, yeah?”

Peter nods.

“You shouldn’t feel like that, okay? Anything that makes you feel bad or uncomfortable shouldn’t happen to you, and you always make sure you tell people if you feel bad, okay?”

“Spider feels bad always, ‘Nee,” Peter whispers.

That was his breaking point. The shrapnel has reached his chest. At that exact point, Tony honestly did not think he would be able to do this anymore.

“I know, I know, bud, but that will change, okay? It’ll be better here. You’ll start to feel good, and you’ll be safe, I know you probably don’t even know what that means, god, fuck, but you will okay? I’m so sorry this has happened to you, Peter.” he rambles, chest feeling like it is going to explode, “and for god sakes, that’s your name, okay? You are _Peter_ , Peter Parker, not a spider, you aren’t a spider, not a lab rat, you are a human being and I don’t want you to _ever_ call yourself a spider, okay? You are _Peter_.”

Right as he ends his rant, quite obviously overwhelming Peter and causing the boy to slightly crawl away from Tony on the couch, Steve reenters the room with his shield.

“Oh, great, Spangles, you’re back, thanks for leaving, by the way, it really helped me, it was great, oh, _fuck_ ,” he groans, hand curling in his shirt as his heart continues to try to jump out of his chest.

“Tony, hey, what’s going on? Hey, listen to me, Tony, breathe with me, okay? You’re having a panic attack, Tony,” Steve says, rushing over to the man and dropping to his knees in front of him, so they are both on the ground.

“No… no _shit_ ,” he gasps out.

“Just breathe okay, Tony? You know what to do, okay? In for five, hold, then release. C’mon, match my breathing,” Steve says, placing Tony’s hand on his chest.

Trying to calm down and figuring out how to properly breathe makes Tony forget his surroundings for a second. Which is why, after what feels like hours of trying to breathe, just as he begins to calm down, he starts when he feels a small hand curl in his hair.

He opens his eyes, which he did not realize were closed, and sees two things. First, his own hand, which is pressed tight against Steve’s chest. Secondly, he sees Peter, who has moved back to him, and is kneeling on the edge of the couch, slowly stroking the man’s hair as he had done for him earlier.

“Hey, bud.” he mumbles and attempts to smile at the boy’s act of kindness.

“…’Nee hurt?” Peter asks, twisting a finger around a loose piece of Tony’s hair.

“No, not hurt, buddy. Just got a little scared, yeah? I’m all better now, you and Steve helped a bunch,” he says.

Releasing his hair and sitting back on the couch, Peter looks much less scared than he did when Tony was rambling.

“Anyways,” Tony says, trying to get the attention off of him, “What was with the big exit, Spangles?”

“Tony”- Steve says, obviously about to talk about the ordeal what he had just witnessed, but Tony cuts him off.

“Let’s forget about that, yeah? No big deal. Tell us, Cap, what was more important than us?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Steve sighs and moves to retrieve the item he had come back with. “I just wanted to show Peter something.”

When Tony glances at the item, he looks up at Steve. What in the world would Peter do with…?

“This is my shield, Peter,” Steve says, holding it up for Peter to see. “It can withhold any kind of force, and I use it to protect me in fights.”

“Safe?” Peter asks.

“Yeah. It keeps me safe. I’ve fought hundreds of HYDRA agents with it.”

Peter lets out a small gasp. He slowly strokes the ends of the shield, before looking back up at Steve.

“Why don’t you hold on to it for a bit, yeah? I’m going to need to it back if we I get called out, but for now, can you keep it safe for me?” he asks.

Peter nods. Steve places it on the couch beside him, and both men watch Peter observe it.

The boy stares at the shield in silence for quite awhile, before his stomach makes a noise that draws the attention of all three members of the room. Peter wraps an arm around his midsection, as it telling it be to quiet.

Steve rises from his crouch on the floor. “How about I make you another smoothie, Peter? or maybe something else? Do you want to try something else?” he asks, tilting his head at the boy. Peter remains silent, looking confused at the choices he has been given. “Well, maybe we’ll just have to make you more than one thing, and you can take a pick, yeah? Let’s see what kind of ingredients we have for some yummy drinks.”

He continues to talk to Peter, as if the boy had any kind of opinion on what what he did and did not like to drink, when Tony’s phone begins to ring.

“You’ve got Stark,” he answers it, smiling at Peter who is looking at him and obviously trying to listen to the conversation. He gestures to his phone in Steve’s direction, before walking into a different room to begin the conversation. He will have the privacy conversation with Peter another day.

“Stark,” Natasha’s voice greets him.

“Oh, good, just what I needed, some more good news, I presume?” he asks, holding his arm out to grip the table in front of him, as if to prepare himself for whatever information he will be getting.

“We did what you asked, he’s in the holding cell. He won’t budge on his story.” She informs him. “Says he was taken, had to appease them, you know the drill.”

“It was him that sexually abused Peter.” He says, stopping her from telling him whatever was next.

There is a quite difference in her tone of voice when she speaks next. “How sure are we about this?”

“Kid told me himself.”

“What do you want me to do?” she asks.

“His story is bullshit. He works for them. Get whatever he knows. Any way possible. Preferably with as much pain as possible.” he tells her.

“Gladly,” she informs him, “Shouldn’t take long. Any idea what will come next?”

Tony is silent for a moment. “Don’t kill him. He doesn’t deserve that. Just get the information, _please_.”

“You got it,” she says before promptly hanging up the phone.

When he hangs up his own phone, he walks back into his living space before stopping short.

“Where the hell did he go?” Tony barks, causing Steve to whip around from where he had been silently pouring vanilla protein powder into a blender.

The living space, sans Tony, is empty of all human beings, though the shield remains propped up on the couch as it had been before. Tony’s eyes go to the ceiling, thinking Peter had climbed up as he had in the past, though the boy was not there as well.

“Peter?” Steve asks, looking around the room as well. Tony is just about to ask JARVIS where the _hell_  his boy had gone before a small head pops up from behind the shield. Peter’s small body is curled up in the corner of the couch, the shield covering every inch of him, completely hiding him from sight before he had snuck his head out.

He seriously will be the death of Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, SO sorry for the delay on the chapter! 
> 
> PLEASE leave comments, they are my inspiration and i check them so much to see any kind of feedback/ideas ya'll want to see in the story, because, after all, YOU are the readers! 
> 
> Thanks again and I hope you enjoyed!


	7. why the hell is bubba

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This is a pretty short chapter because I was writing it and went to add more and realized it was WAY too heavy and would be better as a stand alone chapter.
> 
> That being said, please enjoy, but 
> 
> TW: references to acts of sexual abuse that were performed on a child.

Tony now knows why lawyers don’t let the family members of abused children see the bastards that abused them. Looking at them, even through a wall, there is such a strong feeling of resentment and disgust that makes them want to burst through the wall and rip their heart out.

Standing in the observation room of the man’s cell, Tony is having a similar feeling. He feels no better seeing the bruises that are lining every inch of exposed skin, and no doubt underneath the clothing. Okay, maybe he feels a little better.

Still, Natasha was unable to get anything out of the man. The story is unshaken, and Bubba still is claiming he was being blackmailed, that he has no information on HYDRA.

“Really, it’s inhumane of you to be torturing someone who was just as much a victim as the kid,” Bubba says, spitting on the floor beside him as Natasha leans on the opposite wall.

“You look pretty well fed, I’d say. Could probably lose a few pounds, even. The boy was malnourished, he can’t handle solid foods,” Natasha replies.

“No shit, doll. All my time there, I didn’t see them feed him once. Used some IV fluids or whatever.”

Natasha scoffs. “And you never bothered to, I don’t know, get him some food?”

“Listen, I don’t know if you know a thing or two about kidnapping, but they didn’t just let me do whatever I wanted with him. I would have fed him if i could,” The asshole replies.

“Then why would HYDRA even let you near him? Why let a prisoner interact with one of their lab rats?”

“I don’t know, lady! They’re twisted, they told me what to do so I did it!”

Natasha gives the man one last untrusting look, before walking straight out of the room, and locking the door behind her.

“Stark, what are you doing here? I have this,” Natasha says, giving Tony a stern glare when she spots him.

“Let me talk to him,” Tony says, trying to move past her.

“That’s the worst idea you’ve ever had. You aren’t trained in interrogations, you wouldn’t know a thing about”-

“That’s why I should do it! He’s obviously been trained in resisting this! I don’t know the first thing about this, so he hasn’t been trained to resist what I say! Besides, half the world thinks I’m an ignorant asshole anyway, maybe he can relate!”

“You’re way too close to this. One thing he could say against Peter, and”-

“Look, I promise I’ll keep my chill, or whatever, okay? I just want five minutes with him,” he says, giving her the most pleading look he can.

“I’ll give you three, then you’re out.”

“Good enough,” he replies, “Now open that door.”

Walking through the door, the only thing on his mind is turn back, turn back, but before he knows it, Tony is in the cell and the door is slamming shut behind him.

“Tony Stark,” Bubba says, “What a pleasure. I’m a big fan.”

“Hm, thank you. Always do what I can to please the public,” Tony replies, taking a seat in the abandoned chair Natasha must at some point sat in.

“Are you my interrogator now? I must say, a bit of a downgrade.”

“No. No more interrogations. I just want to talk,” Tony says, leaning back in his seat.

“Oh, yeah? And what were me and Black Widow doing? The tango?” he sneers.

“I’ve been kidnapped before, buddy. I know the things that people make you do. If the people who had taken me told me to hurt a kid, I never would have,” Tony says. “Not ever.”

“You say that now because you never had that happen,” the man says. “You were alone in Afghanistan.”

“I wasn’t, actually,” Tony says. “I don’t talk about him much because there is no reason to. But there was a man. I never would have hurt him, so I’m certain if he were a kid I wouldn’t have.”

“Well, we all can’t be as strong as you, can we, Stark?” Bubba grits out from where he is clenching his teeth.

“I’m not claiming that I’m strong, per say. Just that you’re a coward,” Tony shines him one of his famous smiles.

“Oh,” he scoffs. “I’m a fucking coward? For what?! For doing what I had to do to survive?”

“For betraying HYDRA like that. I thought you all have some code, kill yourself because a thousand more arms will grow back, or whatever?” he asks. “Why pretend all this? Who’s it for? The only answer I can think of is, one, it’s for yourself. Two, you do it because you’re scared.”

“Scared of what?” Bubba’s voice had lowered quite drastically, taking on a threatening snarl.

“Death, probably. Frankly, only cowards and children are afraid of death.”

“Listen here, you piece of shit,” Bubba spits in the direction of where Tony is sitting, and would have hit him had he been any closer. Tony’s distastefully wrinkled nosed seems to throw the man even further in his anger, for he yanks on the chains that are handcuffing him to the table.

“I’m not a fucking coward. I could have killed everyone in that fucking base, with a goddamn smile. I don’t work for them. I was only there for the kid. HYDRA isn’t the only group who wants a super mutant to do their bidding. The only reason I was there was for him and it was so fucking easy, too.” There is spit coming out of his mouth at every word, and his breath has begun to quicken in his anger.

“Took me awhile to even see the use of the kid, fucking pathetic little shit. Only wanted someone to fucking coddle him, he was terrified of them, he’s the fucking coward, I don’t care how young he is,” the man yanks on his chains once more.

“Climbs up the goddamn walls and is stronger than most. That’s it. What’s so special about him? Wasn’t until he put those sweet fuckin’ lips around my cock that I realized his worth. He fuckin’ enjoyed it, too. Loved making me happy, was always willing to get his hand ready, would have fucked him too had you not come and”-

The bastard is cut off by Tony, who had jumped out of his seat and lunged across the table dividing them, landing a solid punch over the man’s nose.

“You _sick son a bitch! He’s just a fucking boy!_ ” Tony hears a crack, but continues in his assault until he half consciously hears the door open and Natasha is pulling him out of the room.

“You tell my baby boy I’m waiting for him! Nobody’ll treat him better than I can!”

“You best pray you’re already dead by the time I come back for you!” Tony yells back, and Natasha closes the door between them. Unfortunately, they are still able to hear the man through the observation glass, and he is not done.

“Never felt anything better than those wet lips around me, those tiny little hands wrapped around me, _fuck,_ you make sure to tell him I love him, alright?” The man is screaming by now, yanking on his chains in his otherwise empty cell.

Natasha pushes both of them out of the observation room, through the hall, and into the privacy of the empty room across the way.

“Stark.”

Tony is seeing red. All around him, red, red, red. He sees two tiny hands reaching for a much, much larger man, head being submerged by the weight of his meaty hands, pushing him and pushing him until his face is pressed against-

Natasha pushes him towards the trash just in time for him to empty every last drop of his insides. He rests on the floor, hands grasping his chest, panting heavily, trying desperately to breathe.

“How- how could he, how could _anyone_ want to”-

“It’s nothing we didn’t already know. You’re letting your emotions get the best of you,” she replies calmly.

“How can you be so okay with this? Peter is _6 fucking years old_! Did you not hear what he said! The sick fucker enjoyed it!”

“I expected no less when you told me. These people are inhumane, Stark. It’s not close to the worst things I’ve seen people like them do, and this won’t be the last time it happens,” she says.

“It’ll be the last time that bastard does! I want him _dead_.”

“He’s angry right now. You got to him. If I go back in now, I can use that anger to get HYDRA information out of him. Then you never have to see him again,” she informs him, face blank and showing no kind of emotion.

“Natasha,” he pleads, “I want him dead.”

“Information first. Then I’ll make him pay for what he did,” she says, gripping his shoulder before walking out of the room, no doubt back into that hellhole.

Tony sits, alone on the floor of an empty room that is beginning to reek from the smell of his vomit, and tries not to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much again, guys! 
> 
> Like I said at the beginning, this chapter was meant to be MUCH longer, and I am currently writing the rest, but this was SO heavy and I didn't want what comes next (ITS GOOD I SWEAR) to mix up with the bad bad bad 
> 
> Please leave any comments/feedback and I swear the next chapter is coming up by tomorrow! Until then! <3


	8. im peter i'm 6 and i never learned how to read

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm the worst I know I'm so sorry I said I'll update Sunday and wow It's Wednesday and I just posted, I know, I suck. 
> 
> Anyway, here is the good that was promised to make up for the bad bad of the last two chapters! Still some angst because baby Peter is sad but this is much lighter than the last one! 
> 
> I didn't realize how heavy in dialogue this was until i posted it on here oh well.

 

 

He isn't sure how long he remains in the empty holding room, but eventually, ever so slowly, Tony goes back to his apartment.

He doesn’t know how he will be able to look at Peter, see those innocent eyes gazing up at him, displaying a trust he should never be able to show any man, ever again, knowing that the boy so desperately believes that the monster in that room cares about him.

As he enters the room, his mind is in a current state of act normal, act normal, act normal, that he does not see the man in the room with Peter until he hears a familiar booming voice.

“Mighty fine job, young Peter!”

Thor.

The man is currently sitting at the couch alongside the boy, showing off his hammer to the kid. Peter is lightly tracing the patterns on the object, quietly mumbling words what Tony is unable to hear, making the man guess if they are even English.

“Point Break! Nice to see you’ve come back!” Tony yells, announcing his presence in the room.

Both figures on the couch raise their head to see Tony. Peter, in seeing the man, yanks his hand away from the hammer and tucks it into his mouth.

“Ah, Brother Stark! So nice to see you! I was just teaching your boy about the history behind Mjölnir! He is quite adept at the terminology, for a human of his age! You must be proud!”

“Yeah, well- wait… he isn’t my kid,” Tony says, giving Thor a look of confusion.

“Well, of course! Steven has told me the full tale! It is very honourable of you, Anthony, for taking Peter in when he had no superior alternatives,” Thor tells him.

“Yeah, I’m a saint, don’t we all know it,” Tony tries to smirk the compliment off.

“Well, now that you are here, I must bid you farewell for now, for I had promised Barton I would join him to, as you say, ‘catch up’,” Thor smiles, before looking down at Peter. “Shall I leave Mjölnir on the couch with you, young Peter? That way, nothing will be able to harm you.”

Peter, still sucking on his fingers, glances down at the hammer that Thor had placed on the couch, and barely moves his head enough to be seen as a nod. Seeing his confirmation, Thor smiles and leaves to go find Clint.

Alone in the room with Peter, for the first time since confronting one of Peter’s abusers, Tony tries his hardest to hide his anger from the boy. However, whether it be his heightened senses, his brilliance, or just the intuition of a boy who had been tortured for most of his life, Peter seems to notice.

After observing Tony long enough that he is able to perceive the man’s mood, Peter lets out the smallest whimper and crawls to the other side of the couch, making a Mjölnir-shaped barricade in between himself and the older man. At the other side of the couch, Peter is greeted with Steve’s shield, which is still in the boy’s possession, and he wraps his small hands around the strap and simply holds on.

Earlier that day, while dressing the boy, Tony had found that Pepper, in her absolute genius, had ordered Avengers themed clothing along with the other ones. In an attempt to joke around, Tony had placed a single Hawkeye sock on one of Peter’s feet, and a Black Widow sock on the other. After debating whether it would be too cocky to place the boy in the Iron Man hoodie or not, he decided on Hulk shirt.

Seeing the boy now, Tony is relieved in his decisions and he feels his worry for the boy diminishing. Peter is surrounded in all six Avengers. He has his Hulk, Black Widow, and Hawkeye clothing, he has Cap’s shield, Thor’s hammer, and he has Tony himself. What better protection than all six Avengers.

Let HYDRA try to take him back. The Avengers will destroy every single one of them before they can even set their eyes on the boy.

“Hey, bud,” Tony says to the kid for the first time since arriving. “Thor’s a little weird, isn’t he?” he asks, smiling. “But we all love him, and he definitely likes you.”

Peter glances up at Tony from where his gaze had been lingering on the hammer. He observes the man, and carefully, ever so carefully, as if not fully believing Tony is not upset because of _him_ , Peter mumbles, “funny hair.”

Tony lets out a laugh. “Yeah, his hair is pretty funny, huh? Long, pretty cute braids, though. He makes it work.”

Peter nods. There is silence for a few moments, before Tony hears a faint growl of the boy’s stomach. Peter looks down at his own stomach, as if silently willing it to be quiet.

“Have you eaten anything since this morning? Had any smoothies?” Tony asks. Peter is quiet for a second before shaking his head. “Pete, you didn’t even finish the smoothie earlier. You must be starving, bud.”

Tony walks to the kitchen, not expecting Peter to follow, though he hears a slight patter of socked feet behind him. The kid must be hungry if he would follow without prompting.

“So, tell me, Peter. Why aren’t you finishing the smoothies? Do you get full? Do you not like the taste?” Tony asks, taking a seat at the island.

Peter stands beside the island, glancing at the seat across from Tony, unsure if he is allowed to sit or not. After receiving no prompting nor denial from the man, Peter decides to take a chance and climb up on the stool, with some help from his powers to boost himself up.

Tony smiles. “You aren’t going to get in trouble if you don’t like the taste of the smoothies, bud. Or if you’re full and don’t want to finish them. You just need to tell me when you are hungry.”

Peter is quiet for a moment before pointing to his stomach. “Feels bad,” he mumbles.

“You’re stomach feels bad? Right now?” Tony inquires, assuming it’s because the boy was hungry. Peter shakes his head. “It hurts when you drink the smoothies?”

Receiving a nod from the boy, Tony decides to take a different route on the boy’s meal. “Okay. I’m glad you told me, Peter. Now we can get you things that don’t make you feel bad, okay?” He says, glancing in the cupboard that somebody must have moved all of Peter’s food into.

“Okay… so… we could try _Ensure_ , I think they give those to starving people… that should be safe…,” Tony mumbles to himself, before grabbing an _Ensure_ bottle and dumping it into one of the sip cups.

“Here you go, bud. Try this. If it doesn’t taste good, or makes you feel bad, or even if you drink it and are still hungry, you tell me, okay?” Tony says, handing the boy his cup.

Peter takes the cup from Tony, and watches as the man spins around to start making himself something to eat, not knowing how long it has been since he himself had eaten.

As if to not intimidate Peter, Tony makes himself some oatmeal with some fruit. After making the meal, Tony turns around to sit at the island, and sees that Peter had drank most of the _Ensure_.

“Hey, nice job bud! Are you still hungry? Did you want more?” he asks. Peter shakes his head.

Believing him, Tony starts to eat his oatmeal, not quite enjoying the taste as much as he would a pizza. As he eats, Peter sits across from him, slightly swinging his legs, which occasionally kick the table, and he stares at the oatmeal in wonder.

As Tony scoops a few blueberries onto his spoon and pops them into his mouth, Peter makes a small, curious noise.

“What that?” Peter asks, pointing at the blueberries.

“Blueberries. My favourite fruit. Do you want to try some?” Tony asks, moving to retrieve the carton from the fridge. He places it in between them on the island and opens the lid.

Peter hesitantly picks up a single blueberry from the carton, sniffs it, and places it in his mouth. Then, to Tony’s dismay, he swallows the thing whole without chewing it. Peter begins to cough slightly, and wrinkles his nose.

“Okay, okay, i forgot about that, okay, you need to chew it, okay? You might choke,” Tony explains, picking a blueberry himself and popping it into his mouth, chewing dramatically, and swallowing.

Peter mimics what Tony had done perfectly, though chews quite less dramatically than Tony, and after he swallows the berry, his eyebrows come together as if piecing together the puzzle of the berry.

Soon after, however, he looks up at Tony and grins at the man. “Good.”

“You like it?” Tony asks, receiving a nod from the kid. “You can have more, go ahead,” he points to the carton.

As Tony finishes off his own oatmeal, Peter chews on the blueberries, stopping every few berries to gaze at the man for permission to continue.

Despite this, Tony counts this as a successful meal.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Later that night, after JARVIS pointedly reminds Tony that Peter is a child, and has been yawning for quite awhile, and needs to sleep much earlier than Tony himself, the two find themselves back in Tony’s room.

Peter, having entered the room behind Tony, lets out a small squeak, and zooms past the man, pattering over to what Tony has deemed ‘Peter’s corner’, and picks up his toy sloth he had abandoned in his search for Bubba.

Tony watches as the boy hugs the toy, hearing the sloth squeak back, and then Peter whispering quietly to it. When he finishes whispering, he will squeeze the animal again, emitting another squeak, and he will whisper again.

 _He’s having a conversation with the sloth,_ Tony thinks to himself. As weird as Tony believes it to be, it is also possibly the most childlike thing he has seen the boy do since arriving, and it makes the man overjoyed.

When the conversation seems to die down, Tony steps in, like every mean adult, and interrupts the two.

“Did you want to sleep on the bed tonight, Pete?” He asks.

Peter looks down at his sloth, as if asking permission from it, squeezes it to hear the familiar squeak, and shakes his head.

“Buddy, you can’t sleep in the corner for the rest of your life,” Tony says.

“Spid… Peter always sleeps there,” the boy mumbles, hiding his face into his sloth.

“You aren’t with HYDRA anymore, bud, you don’t have to sleep in the corner, or on the ceiling, okay?”

“Bubba… Bubba let Spider… um… Peter… on bed,” Peter whispers, curling up as if trying to disappear into his toy.

_Fuck._

“Okay. You don’t have to sleep on the bed. How about we both crash on the couch? No bed, no corner,” Tony suggests. Seeing the hesitation on Peter’s face, Tony quickly figures out another solution. “Or! We can move the couch _into_ the corner, so that way we can see everything and not have to sleep on the floor!”

Peter’s eyebrows come together, as if weighing the pros and cons of the suggestion, before slowly nodding.

“Perfect! Okay, I may have to call Steve up here or something to help us move it, it’s pretty heavy and hard to drag and I”-

For all the shocks Tony has received in the past two weeks, this is the one that makes him the most excited. Perhaps a little frightened. Or creeped out.

Peter, while Tony had been contemplating bringing Steve up, has moved straight to the couch, and without missing a beat, lifted one end of the couch up and dragged it to his corner.

“Okay… okay, that solves that problem. Nice job, kid. Jesus, that was scary,” Tony smiles at the kid, placing a hand over his heart.

After getting Peter ready for bed, which included some adorable Captain America pyjamas and strawberry flavoured children’s toothpaste, Tony is sitting on one end of the couch, watching Peter curl up on the other.

He sits there, listening to the boy move around, trying to figure out a way to get the boy a bed. Maybe if he got a smaller bed? Fit for a kid? He makes a mental note to get Pepper to find a small bed. What age do kids stop using cribs? Surely before six. What else do kids sleep on, if not a bed?

 _You don’t know what you’re doing, Tony,_ a voice, a familiar voice, Tony knows that voice, he grew up hearing that voice, never anything good, always insults, reprimands, Howard’s voice.

 _I’m trying my best,_ he thinks back, _what the hell else is there to do?_

Peter shifts on the couch, trying to get comfortable, before looking up at Tony. He picks up the pillow Tony had placed under his head, crawls to Tony’s side of the couch, and carefully slides the pillow against the wall where Tony’s head rests.

“You didn’t have to do that bud, I can reach the other pillows from here,” Tony explains, though his heart clenches at how, despite all the torture, this boy still managed to come out of it kind.

Peter does not answer, but simply curls up, right beside Tony, laying his head on the man’s lap, facing the door. The sloth, still curled up in the boy’s arms, emits another squeak as Peter strokes it’s fur.

Tony, taking a shot in the dark, decides to mimic Peter, but instead of petting the sloth, the starts to slowly stroke Peter’s soft curls. The boy freezes for a small second, before letting out a small sigh and relaxing into the man.

“Do you know what you’re going to name your sloth?” Tony asks quietly.

_Please don’t say Bubba, please don’t say Bubba, please please please._

“…Mary,” Peter mumbles, squeezing the sloth once more.

“Mary,” Tony repeats, heart clenching over the name.

There is no way the kid means Mary Parker. There is no way he was old enough to remember her, and Tony doesn’t even know if it would be better or worse if the kid forgot. Would it be better to think you’ve been with HYDRA forever, or knowing you once had a family that loved you, cared for you, before they were taken away?

“…Mama,” the boy sleepily replies, answering Tony’s unspoken question.

He remembers his mother? How is that even possible? Tony thinks back to the charts, Peter was taken when he was two, he shouldn’t be able to remember her, right? Maybe his powers help his memory? Or maybe… maybe HYDRA told him about her. Probably never said anything good, if they had, but enough that Peter knew about her.

Before he can answer, Tony is beaten by Peter squeezing the sloth, or Mary. This close to the boy, Tony can hear the what Peter whispers to his toy, and what he hears stays with him for the rest of the night and Peter sleeps against his leg.

“Safe now, Mama.”

XXXXXXXXXXX

Tony wakes up slowly, slower than he usually does, until a sharp pain in his neck causes his eyes to shoot open.

 _Yup,_ he thinks as he lets out a groan, _this couch thing isn’t gonna work out._

Looking down, Tony does not see Peter, nor does he see the kid anywhere on the couch, and his eyes shoot up. Not on the ceiling either, Tony tells himself not to panic, this isn’t the first time Peter hasn’t been in in his sight, he’s fine, he probably left to go pee, or get the shield.

As Tony gets up from the couch, he spots the kid across the room, legs crossed, sloth placed on his lap, holding a book Tony had placed on his bookshelf who knows how long ago, on quantum mechanics, a he mumbles to himself, or to Mary, as his fingers skim the words.

As Tony gets closer, he realizes the kid isn’t actually reading, just simply making sounds as he pretends to read the book.

“Hey bud,” Tony says as Peter notices him.

“Hi,” Peter mumbles, hand still trailing over the words he cannot read.

“HYDRA didn’t teach you how to read, huh?” Tony asks, kneeling down beside the boy. Peter shakes his head. “I’ll teach you, bud,” he says, watching as Peter’s ears basically perk up like an excited puppy. “Maybe we shouldn’t start with quantum physics, yeah? Maybe we’ll start simple, like the alphabet. Maybe some Dr. Seuss.”

Peter’s eyes widen in fright at the mention of a doctor. Realizing his mistake, Tony quickly fixes his mistake. “Hey, hey, he’s not a real doctor, just some phoney who wrote books, I don’t even think he had an English doctorate, he just added it for no reason, he writes books, books for kids like you, yeah?”

Peter sniffs.

“We don’t even have to read his books. We can read… what else do kids read? Well, we’ll figure it out. No Dr. Seuss.”

“…No doctor,” Peter mumbles, handing Tony his textbook.

“No doctors,” Tony repeats, taking the book and standing up. “How about some breakfast?” Tony asks.

Peter nods.

“If I may, sir,” JARVIS speaks, “Captain Rogers was inquiring whether Sir and Peter would like to join the team for breakfast in the Common Area.”

Tony hesitates. He glances at Peter, who is looking up at Tony in confusion.

“Do you want to go eat with everybody else? It’s nobody you haven’t met before, just Steve, Natasha, Clint, Thor, and maybe Bruce,” Tony says, before realizing how extensive and most likely intimidating the list is.

“…Thor?” Peter asks, interest peaking.

“Yeah! Thor will for sure be there! He loves himself some breakfast food!”

Peter nods, and Tony leads them to the elevator.

Once the doors shut behind them, Peter lets out a whimper and grabs Tony’s hand. Tony realizes the kid has not left Tony’s own floor since escaping the holding cell, and is most likely frightened of where the elevator is leading him.

Tony squeezes his hand back. “It’s alright, kid. Just a few floors left,” he says, and before they know it, the doors to the common area are opening, and they are stepping out, inhaling the wafting smell of breakfast.

“Just look at those pyjamas!” Clint says from his spot on the couch, where he had looked half asleep before the two walked in. “Where can I get a pair of those? I need some Cap Pj’s in my life!”

Peter glances down at his pyjamas, then up at Tony, then to Clint, and stays silent, still gripping Tony’s hand.

“Yeah, I’m going to veto that right now,” Natasha pipes up from the kitchen stool. “Peter is the only person in this room who can wear those clothes and not look like a fool.”

“I quite agree!” Thor says, walking towards Peter and Tony. “Hello again, Peter! I trust you kept  
Mjölnir safe?” Seeing Peter’s quick nod, he cheers. “Wonderful! Soon enough, you shall be worthy enough to yield her, young Peter!”

As Peter smiles up at the man, Clint boos in the background. “Don’t get his hopes up, Thor! We all know it’s jinxed so only you can hold it!”

“That is incorrect, my friend. You are all simply unworthy, and soon, Peter here will be, while you all remain simple Midgardian peasants,” he jokes back. Thor crouches down to be at Peter’s height, and ruffles the boy’s hair, and to Tony’s surprise, the boy does not flinch.

Peter releases Tony’s hand and curls his hand in Thor’s golden locks, very similar to what the man had done to him.

“I like your hair,” Peter mumbles, reminding Tony of their conversation the previous day, making the man smile.

“Why, thank you! I quite like your hair as well! I myself have never been able to manage having curly hair, but you do it quite lovely!” Thor smiles at the boy. Peter smiles back, and before Tony has a chance to stop him, he has moved to the kitchen with Thor, leaving the former man to be left in the dust.

 _Do not get jealous that the kid went with Thor_ , he thinks to himself. _You will not get jealous the kid went with Thor._

Sitting at the table, Peter with a simple bottle of Ensure, the rest of the team with piles of food, Tony thinks to himself for the first time since receiving Peter, _this could actually work out._

“Are we actually going to let Peter suffer with just one bottle of that shit while we all eat ourselves into a coma?” Clint asks.

“Peter is still recovering from malnutrition, Clint,” Bruce pipes up, picking at his significantly smaller pile of food.

“Not even one pancake? What is this?” the man repeats, leaning over into the pile of pancakes to grab the smallest one. He places it on a plate in front of Peter. “Here, kid.”

“You don’t have to eat it, Peter,” Steve says, “If you’re full or don’t want to,” he clarifies, glaring at Clint.

Peter looks around the table before his eyes land on Tony, who is sitting right beside him. Tony smiles at the boy, before saying “It’s up to you, just remember what I said with the blueberries, okay?”

Peter nods and, ignoring the silverware near him, rips a chunk of the pancake off and pops it into his mouth, giving a pointed look at Tony before chewing, as if to prove he remembered. As he swallows the bite of pancake, Peter makes a small smile and quietly mumbles into his plate, “Good,” before ripping another piece off.

When the pancake is gone, the entire table is watching the boy. Seeing the looks, Peter begins to curl into himself, before all six people begin to cheer.

“Good job, Peter!” Clint says, “I told you guys! What did I tell you?”

“A mighty fine job, Peter! Soon you will be able to match my own appetite!” Thor shouts, gesturing to the huge pile on his plate.

Peter is practically glowing at the amount of praise he is receiving from the team, and he squeezes the sloth that has remained in his lap whilst eating.

“See, bud? Even Mary is proud of you,” Tony smiles, watching Peter perk up even more.

Later, while Peter is busy putting together a puzzle on the floor with Steve, Bruce sits down next to Tony.

“Mary?” Bruce asks quietly, knowing the extent to Peter’s hearing.

“I didn’t choose it,” Tony replies, “He knows it was his mom’s name.”

Bruce hums. Before he can reply, JARVIS calls for Tony.

“Sir, you have a guest downstairs, requesting access to your own floor.”

“Who is it?” Tony asks, already beginning a denial, for everyone who needs to request access is not allowed in, before JARVIS replies.

“Professor Charles Xavier, Sir.”

“Oh, _hell no_ ,” Clint says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woowowow, what could Professor X want?! Is Fury behind it?! 
> 
> Also I learned in my psych class that young kids of Peter's age can remember things from young young ages like 2 or 3, especially if it's a big memory, and the memory will eventually leave them as they get older, but with Peter's powers, that all goes out the window. 
> 
> Thanks so much for your amazing comments, reading them puts a smile on my face! So please keep leaving them!


	9. i'msorry, the tower is closed today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! Only 6 days in between updates is an okay time, right? I hope so. I really do. 
> 
> Chapter TW: Slight Reference to Child Sexual Abuse  
> Chapter TW: References to Anxiety Attacks.

Tony, along with the brute force that comes with Steve, Natasha, and Clint, makes his way to a meeting room he ordered Xavier to meet him in. No way in hell was he allowing the man into the common floor, let alone the same room Peter is currently in.

“So what’s our plan here?” Clint asks, “If Fury sent him, there isn’t a chance Xavier will be leaving without twenty-five pounds of mutant child in his arms.”

“That isn’t going to happen,” Steve says, and Tony isn’t sure if he says it more to reassure Clint, Tony, or himself.

“And he isn’t twenty-five pounds anymore,” Tony pipes up, “He’s twenty-seven, thank you very much.”

When Peter had first arrived at the tower, he had been a malnourished and dehydrated little boy who’s bones had jutted out frighteningly, even for a little boy. In the short time he has spent with Tony, he had only gained two pounds, thought it makes the man proud. With Peter’s short stature, the weight is still considered extremely underweight, but soon he’ll get bigger and healthier, something HYDRA would never have worried about.

Currently, Peter is held up with Bruce and Thor exploring some children’s shows that JARVIS had deemed safe for someone with Peter’s background. Tony knows that no matter what happens with the professor, Thor will make sure that nobody touches Peter. That fact alone is enough to _slightly_ calm Tony down.

Approaching the meeting room, the four Avengers glance at each other before Steve reaches out, places his handle on the doorknob, and opens the door.

Sitting on both sides of the table resides two X-Men. Charles Xavier, who must have had a chair removed to settle his wheelchair in, and across from him, some sort of hairy blue X-Men.

“Lordy,” Tony says, examining the blue fur-man. “I didn’t know we were being blessed with more than one.”

“Mr. Stark, this is Hank McCoy. He has been by my side for many years, and I trust him with my life,” Xavier says. “I am sure you already know who I am. Please take a seat.”

“Um, this is _my_ tower, I’ll sit if I want to sit,” Tony jabs back defensively.

“I am aware of that, which is why we have saved the head of the table for you.”

“I’m sure you are wondering why we don’t have Peter with us,” Steve says, taking his own seat at the table. Natasha and Clint also take a seat, no doubt keeping their defences high, while Tony chooses to continue standing.

“I had no doubt that you would not be bringing the child along,” Xavier replies to Steve.

The hairy blue guy, or _Hank McCoy_ , as Xavier had introduced him as, begins to speak. “Please believe us when we say we have no interest in doing anything against Peter’s best interest.”

Tony scoffs, “Yeah, like you two haven’t been sent here by Fury.”

“That is true,” Xavier says, “Director Fury has indeed asked me to have a look at Peter, and to take him in, train him to fully understand his powers,” he continues, interrupting Tony before he gets a chance to respond. “However, Mr. Stark, this a unique case, and Hank and I believe that the child perhaps does not belong at our school.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Clint asks.

“It means, Mr. Barton, that Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters is a place for mutant children who do not have any other suitable options,” he explains, “They learn to accept and live with their powers, in a safe and non-threatening way to society.”

“So, you’re saying Peter is a threat to your school?” Steve asks, “Or to society in general?”

“Not in the slightest. I have no reason to believe Peter is a danger to society until I meet him. What HYDRA has been conditioning him to be, however, is concerning. I must examine the child in order to see how far the conditioning has gone.”

“Oh, you mean you’re gonna read the kid’s mind?” Tony snaps.

“Not going to happen, Xavier,” Clint comes to Tony’s defence. He knows what it is like to have your brain messed with.

“Only to see how his intentions lay. I have no intention to harm nor deceive Peter in any way,” The man tries to explain.

“You said Peter doesn’t belong at your school,” Natasha accuses. “If not because you believe him to be a danger to the students, then why?”

“As I said, many of our children do not have any other suitable options,” he explains to her, “Either their parents are afraid of them, or of others finding out, or of them hurting themselves or others, the children are sent to me to embrace their powers, rather than to push them away. Peter is not this case. He has people who accept his mutation,” Xavier says, making sure to maintain eye contact with every member of the group during his explanation.

“More so,” McCoy tries, “Peter wasn’t born with a mutation. That, in the eye of society, is a drastic difference.”

“What do you mean?” Tony asks.

“The general public has never been on the side of mutants,” McCoy explains. “Always trying to jail, execute, or banish us, which is why the school is a safe space for mutant children. It isn’t like that with mutates. People who were born without the mutation, and acquired it later in life. People like you, Captain Rogers, or like Peter.”

“Peter and my case are drastically different,” Steve says to the man. “I signed up for a government experimentation project, at twenty-four years old. Peter had this thrust upon him, against his own will, and that of his family, when he was two, maybe three.”

“Ya,” Clint says, “Kid probably doesn’t remember ever not being able to climb walls.”

“The body remembers what the mind does not, Captain,” Xavier explains. “Peter may not remember a time in which he had no powers, but his subconscious, such a powerful yet overlooked part of the human mind, will always remember a time when it’s body had much lower limits. It will assist him in learning to control his powers.”

“His powers involve scaling walls, that’s about it.” Clint says.

“On the contrary, Mr. Barton, his powers allow Peter to do things normal children could not. Hank?”

“It's the quick healing, the fast metabolism, it teaches the subconscious things about resistance. If Peter was born with this power, it would be hard for him to learn about limits, he would think he is immune to many things that he isn’t, it’s a power that can be used very irresponsibly,” Hank explains to the group. “He acquired his power later in his life, so his subconscious remembers a time he did not have to eat as much, or how much a bruise or a little cut hurt and healed, and it will accordingly teach him not to take his powers for granted.”

“What about Cap?” Tony asks. “He got those same powers at twenty-four, he doesn’t know jack shit about limits and resistance.”

“I do not think that is quite true, Mr. Stark,” Xavier says, eyes peering into Steve’s as if extracting his very soul.

Steve coughs, and breaks his eye contact with the older man. “So, uh, you’re saying we can keep Peter? He doesn’t have to come to the school?”

“Certainly,” Xavier says, “I would like to meet the child, if it is okay with all of you. I could help you prepare for what is to come with the child.”

“We’re the Avengers, man,” Clint says. “We don’t need help caring for a mutation, we already have like, two.”

“Not only the mutation,” the bald man explains, making his next statement directed at Tony. “But there will come a time when Peter comes to love you, and therefore will trust you deeper than he has anyone else. When that time comes, and he is able to let down his guard, what emerges could break him, even when HYDRA could not.”

Looking into Xavier’s deep blue eyes, Tony is understanding more about his situation with Peter than he has in all the time the boy has been with him. Peter, with all the torture and experimentation HYDRA had thrust upon him, doesn’t really trust anybody. This, Tony knew. How could he, when everyone who he had come in contact with in two thirds of his life had only hurt him. Christ, he thought his sexual abuser was the only person in the world to love him. But Xavier is correct, Peter will, whether in a few months or a few years, be comfortable around them, enough for his true feelings to emerge.

Peter will let his mask fall, a mask no child should even have to wear, and with that, all the feelings he had held together with HYDRA will emerge. He will realize that Bubba was hurting him, that his whole life had been a huge lie.

_That’s enough to break a full grown man,_ Tony thinks, _let alone a baby._

Tony doesn’t believe how he had not been able to see it before. Peter, after having gone through everything he did with HYDRA, had never had a single nightmare while being here. No matter how many times Tony explains to him that nobody wants to hurt him, in any way, Peter still seems to think somebody is going to molest him, or worse. Doesn’t even… seem to be frightened of the idea. Tony is brought back to the memory of Peter telling him of Bubba’s abuse. The kid didn’t even realize what the bastard had done was wrong. He had thought it was normal to do those things around someone who ‘loved you.’ The kid doesn’t know what it is to be a normal, healthy human being, and considering he still sometimes has issues referring to himself in the first person, and will call himself ‘Spider,’ Tony is willing to bet the kid has been led to believe he isn’t even a human.

_Always feel bad, ‘Nee,_ the kid had said to him. How is he going to feel when he finally realizes what Bubba had done to him? How is Tony going to comfort a kid who associates comfort with sexual abuse? He doesn’t know what to do, he has no idea how to be prepared, what to even be prepared for, he…

“You can see him,” Tony says, receiving a small, warm smile from the man, whilst also receiving four confused, angry, or somewhere in between looks.

He needs to be prepared.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Bruce, Thor, and Peter are already in the room Tony had told them to meet his group. As the six of them approach the small couch the two are sitting on, Tony’s first impression is that Thor is trying to intimidate the two guests, lifting his hammer up in some sort of threat, but at a closer glance, he realizes the god is playing with Peter.

Thor has a firm grip on the top his hammer’s handle, Peter’s small little hand holding the bottom, as Thor swings it around in zig-zagged motions.

“Mighty Peter of Midgard, worthy of Mjölnir, will stop every evildoer that comes his way! Look at the way he swings her! A swing worthy of Thor, I would say!” Thor announces, similar to the way he has heard the announcers of the baseball games Steve likes to watch.

As Thor sees the group arrive, he slowly stops the motions of the hammer, causing Peter to look up as well. Without alarming Peter, Tony can see the way that Thor slightly turns his body, as if protecting the small boy from any sudden harm that may come his way.

“Welcome, friends!” Thor says to the four Avengers. “I see you have brought guests. I should hope they are here on good intent,” he continues, sending a slight warning glare their way.

“Hank and I would just like to meet young Peter, as we have heard so much about him, and then we will be on our way back to the school,” Charles explains, wheeling himself closer to the couch.

Thor glances at Tony, and at seeing the man’s slight nod, he steps aside to let Xavier wheel up to where Peter’s legs are tucked into the couch.

“Hello, Peter. I am Charles,” he softly smiles, extending a hand. Peter, unsure of what to do in the situation, brings one hand up to his mouth, hovering over his slightly open mouth, while the other comes up to rest beside Xavier’s hand, not touching, but in the same extending gesture.

Xavier hums, and very slowly takes Peter’s hand, turning it over to examine the scars on the boy’s wrists. “Oh dear. What happened here, child?”

Peter does not respond, but Xavier does not seem to need an answer, lightly stroking the scars as he nods his head. “I see. What they have done to you is not right, Peter, and I do hope that one day you will understand that.”

Peter’s eyebrows come together as the boy tilts his head to the side. Before Tony can hear what happens next, his attention is drawn away from the pair as McCoy begins to quietly speak to Bruce.

“Dr. Banner? I’m Hank McCoy. I’ve always admired your work with gamma radiation,” the blue man says.

“My work with gamma radiation ended up with the results I was definitely not aiming for,” Bruce responds, “but thank you, I think.”

“Everyone makes mistakes, Dr. Banner. Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this blue furry monster. It was only my feet, and I was ashamed, I tried to get rid of my mutation, and then this happened,” he explains.

Bruce, visibly uncomfortable with the discussion that is becoming more and more about the Hulk, smiles slightly and looks away from the man.

“Hey, McCoy,” Tony says, “This talk about the subconscious remembering things that the conscious mind doesn’t, does that work with memories, as well?”

“It can, yes. Depends on what we are talking about,” the man answers.

“Peter, he remembers his mother. Or at least enough of her that he knows her name, and that she is a source of comfort,” Tony tries to explain. “He shouldn’t be able to remember that, right? He was taken when he was two.”

McCoy hums. “It’s difficult to be sure, especially at someone as young as Peter. He could simply remember his mother because of his age, and forget later on, especially with his mutation.”

“That’s what we were thinking. But to remember her name? That’s odd for a two year old to bank in the memory box, isn’t it?”

“It is. I’ll ask Charles, he may be able to tell you more about it. Or, asking Peter may be your best bet.”

“Peter has the communication skills of a three year old, if that,” Tony says.

“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to work on that, aren’t you?” McCoy says, before turning his attention back to the couch, where Charles is talking to Peter about his ability to walk on the walls.

“But you must be very careful, Peter, and always do what your senses tell you, alright?” Xavier says. Peter nods, before glancing towards Tony, as if silently telling the man he wishes to leave.

Before Tony can intervene, Xavier seems to understand just as well. “Well, Hank, I believe it is time for us to bid our friends farewell.”

“That’s it?” Steve asks from where he is leaning against the door.

“Quite, Captain. Mr. Stark, will you walk Hank and I to the front entrance? It is quite confusing in this tower.” Xavier asks, which Tony understands as the man’s wish to discuss what he has found with him.

“Sure. You guys all go up to the common floor, I’ll meet you up there,” Tony says, sending a smile Peter’s way as he goes with them.

As McCoy rolls Xavier out of the room, Tony beside them, the elder man looks up at Tony. “You must be careful with him, Mr. Stark.”

“What? You can’t possibly tell me you saw some hidden evil in that kid’s brain,” Tony scoffs at the idea.

“None at all. That is why I am so worried. No child should be able to go through the extend of torture that boy has and come out with as pure a heart as Peter.” Xavier says.

“Isn’t that a good thing, though? He isn’t evil, he overcame something nobody should.”

“He has not overcome anything, Stark. Peter’s mind has created a major block around the parts of itself that children need to mature into healthy adults. The parts which process fear, pain, hunger, any negative emotion, have been forced back in the means of protecting the boy,” he tries to explain to Tony. “He knew that behaviour was not tolerated with HYDRA, so he adapted.”

“However,” McCoy cuts in, understanding where Xavier is taking this. “Peter is still a child, a child who has been denied the care a child needs to cope.”

“Hank is right,” Xavier continues. “Repressed emotions and behaviours, especially for the extend in which Peter had to repress them, can be quite damaging. Eventually, the boy will become much too exhausted to keep the emotions blocked.”

“When he becomes comfortable enough to safely drop it,” Tony nods.

“In a sense, yes. In another, years of repressed emotions can cause so much damage, especially when Peter begins to accept everything they had done to him was inhumane. There is no predicting how he may respond.”

“I’ll be there when he does,” Tony says.

“I hope you are, Mr. Stark. I truly do.” Xavier says.

XXXXXXXXXXX

When Tony returns to the common room, Peter is huddled in the corner of the room, Cap’s shield held tightly around him, blocking his entire body from view. Thor is positioned a few feet away from the boy, sitting cross-legged, attempting to coax the boy from his spot.

At Tony’s confused glance at the rest of the group, all drinking coffee at the kitchen island, Steve quietly says, “I think he’s tired. He’s had a busy day.”

“Yeah,” Clint agrees, “Kid had his first team breakfast, spent the entire day away from his favourite person, then had his brain prodded by a freak in a wheelchair. I still don’t get why you let him see the kid, Stark.”

“He only wanted to help, Clint,” Bruce says. “Besides, the good thing is they didn’t try to take Peter away.” 

They continue to talk to each other as Tony approaches Thor. “Ease up, big guy, I got it from here.”

Thor frowns but still stands up and moves to the team, upset he could not comfort Peter.

“Eh, It’s okay Thor, Pete just wants his dad, you know how it is,” Clint smirks, making room for Thor at the table.

After Tony sends them a firm glare that says _not his dad, fuck you,_ Tony kneels down beside the shield.

“Hey bud, what’s up?” he tries, testing the waters. At his voice, the shield slightly moves and Tony is greeted with one big brown doe eye, peering at the man. Tony smiles. “Hey.”

Peter sniffs and rubs at his eye.

“You feeling tired, bud?” At Peter’s nod, Tony continues. “Yeah, I bet. How about we go back to my room and take a little nap?”

Peter, hearing the suggestion, moves the shield out of the way and picks himself off the floor. Tony gets up as well and begins to lead the boy to the elevator, when a small hand slips into his. He grips the tiny hand back as the two step into the elevator.

As they step back into Tony’s room, Peter picks up his sloth, which somehow had ended up back here, most likely when Thor or Bruce had dressed the boy. Peter squeezes the toy and yawns.

Both figures, now clad in comfortable sweats and T-shirts, settle in on the couch, Peter’s arms hugging Tony’s arm, head resting just beside the arc reactor. The glow catches the boy’s attention, and he moves a small hand to hover over it. Tony freezes.

_Breathe, his_ voice comes back to Tony like he had been doused in ice water. _Easy, easy._

_When I ordered the hit on you, I worried that I was killing the golden goose._ He’s here, he’s going to take the arc reactor, oh god, he’s going to take Peter. _You had one last golden egg to give._

He can’t breathe, he can’t the arc reactor is out, he took it out, he needs it, oh god.

_Do you really think that just because you have an idea, it belongs to you?_

He’s going to die, he is going to die and Peter will have nobody, he needs somebody, he-

Somebody is stroking his chest, stroking… the arc reactor. It’s still there. Tony is paralyzed, but he can look down, look down and see them taking it, look down and see…

Peter.

Peter is cuddled up to him, oblivious to Tony’s panic attack, simply stroking the arc reactor, keeping it firmly in the man’s chest.

“Pretty,” Peter mumbles, yawning again and squeezing his sloth.

Tony lets out a deep sigh. It’s just Peter. Nobody else is here, nobody wants to take the reactor from him, it’s just Peter, infatuated with the blue light. He boy is staring at the light with half closed lids, as if in a trance, falling asleep to the light.

They’re safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when, at 18 years old, your google history is all "how to talk to children about sexual abuse" and "what is a healthy weight for a short 6 year old", you know there is a problem. 
> 
> I wrote half of this before I remembered the Charles and Hank I know are young but would be old in this fic so ignore the X-Men timelines bc they aren't a big part anyway!
> 
> I had to re watch that Iron Man 1 scene for this and let me tell you, 8 year old me thought Jeff Bridges was SCARY in that scene. 
> 
> Thank you for all your lovely comments, and please make sure to drop one below! I really hope everyone is enjoying it!


	10. there's only one thing worst than a rapist; a CHILD RAPIST

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This story is really coming together and I really appreciate all your feedback and comments!
> 
> TW for this chapter: There is a slight description and indication of the torture of a minor (bad) character. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Peter has been living in the tower for a month, and Tony feels as if he has aged ten years in that short period of time. He is constantly walking on eggshells, making sure nothing he does could trigger the kid, send him spiralling into the chaos that Xavier warned him about. It makes Tony feel awful, too, because Peter is the most well behaved child he has ever seen. He never makes any kind of mess, he is too quiet, and rarely expresses any kind of need, opposed to occasionally reminding Tony he needs to use the bathroom, and he eats what he is given, albeit very little amounts of it.

It all makes Tony sick.

Children aren’t supposed to be obedient to the core, doing anything and everything they think adults want. They are supposed to disobey, make messes, be loud. Whatever kind of conditioning HYDRA did on the boy, they started early and engraved it deep into the kid. The team tries, _dear god_ do they try, but sometimes it’s near impossible to _not_ voice something that Peter takes as an order.

Tony thought it would be better after they dealt with Bubba. Not a week after Tony had confronted Bubba, Natasha had informed him that she had gotten every possible detail out of the man. Since that day, herself, Clint, and Steve had all been on a very long mission in tracking down the bases and the scumbags that Bubba had ratted out. Tony told her that he would deal with getting rid of Bubba himself.

He had walked into the cell, dreading anything that the man would say to him. The room stunk of something rancid, most likely a mix of piss and vomit. Sitting in the middle of the cell had been Bubba, who after a week of encounters with the Black Widow, was looking like he had seen _much_ better days.

“Well hello there, Mr. Stark,” the man had smiled, showing Tony a set of crooked and some missing teeth. There had been a trail of dried blood leading from Bubba’s nose to his chin, where it looked to have been wiped away.

“Don’t be so smug, asshole. You have nothing good coming your way,” Tony replied back, gritting his teeth.

“I’m not so sure,” Bubba’s smile had gotten wider, “Wherever you decide to put me. HYDRA will only get me back. Cut off one head and another”-

“Do you seriously think they would take you back for any reason other than to kill you in one of the worst possible ways?” Tony had snapped. “Almost seventy percent of the vast amounts of information you kindly provided to the Black Widow had been completely under SHIELD’s radar. You’re the reason we’re going to take down HYDRA.”

The man’s smile had diminished then, filling Tony with more pleasure than it should have, given the situation.

“So what are you going to do? Kill me?” The man had mocked.

“No. I’m not going to kill you,” Tony had said, and before the man had time to give another sick smile, continued, “I know some people at Ryker’s Island. Guards, prisoners, you name it. The prisoners, I’ll say, aren’t a big fan of me. The guards, though,” Tony gave the man a smile of his own. “Something all three of us have in common is that we despise rapists, let alone child one’s. I’ll make sure they place you in a cell with someone who’d just _love_ to have someone like you join them.”

With that, Tony had begun to walk out of the cell, but before he had the chance, he was stopped by a raspy voice.

“Do you really think you’ve won, _Iron Man_? Doesn’t matter what you do to me, that kid will always be mine, and nothing you try to do will stop that fact. He knows where he belongs, and it’s kneeling at the feet of”-

Tony had cut him off with a vast punch to the nose, releasing a fresh stream of blood to join the dried one. “Enjoy hell, fucker.”

The last thing Tony had heard of the man, he had been found dead in his cell at Ryker’s, eleven stab wounds in various, disturbingly appropriate places. His cell mate had willingly and happily accepted punishment for what he had deemed a very appropriate punishment for a child rapist.

Weeks after the hearing the news, knowing Peter is out of the man’s grasp, is safe with the Avengers, but still so firmly stuck in the mindset of HYDRA rules, the news still does not make Tony as glad as he thought it would.

Because maybe, just maybe, the man had been right. Maybe they would never be able to rid Peter of his internal torment, maybe the kid would always believe he were a prisoner, a toy to be played with by anyone who wishes.

God, Tony hopes not.

XXXXXXXXXXX

  
Bruce and Tony had done their research into Peter’s stunted speech. They started learning from journals, textbooks, anything written by linguistic professionals, trying to understand the basics of child language acquisition.

“He’s stuck at the beginning of the telegraphic stage of language development,” Bruce had quietly explained to Tony in the lab early one morning, Peter sitting quietly in the corner, playing with Mary the Sloth.

“… and that is?” Tony had encouraged.

“It’s like…” Bruce fumbled with an explanation. “When a baby first begins to speak, they start with one word, then two word phrases. When they hit about two years old, they start incorporating the words that tie the sentence together. They start small, then slowly, usually around age three or four, they pretty much have the basics.”

“So why does he still speak like he’s at the beginning?” Tony had asked.

“If I were to guess, Peter is stuck at around the speech of a three, three and a half year old. He was taken when he had just turned two,” Bruce explained. “They start using smaller morphemes in their sentences, then work up. Peter’s very smart, Tony, so he managed to grasp more after he was taken, or he learned it quicker than the average child, I’m not sure.”

“So then why is his language so stunted?” Tony continued on, not sure where Bruce was going.

“Because, Tony,” Bruce sighed. “Children are so assimilated by what they see and hear everyday, and language acquisition is no different. The people who raise the child encourage the language development, they give feedback or correct the grammar in order for the child to learn more.”

“And Peter didn’t have that,” Tony said, starting to catch up to what Bruce is explaining.

“Exactly. From what we’ve learned from Peter’s time there, he was beaten for talking more than necessary; basically any time he wasn’t specifically asked a question,” Bruce sighs once more before continuing. “Not only can that scare a child into thinking they shouldn’t speak, but they don’t have the practice they need to develop their language skills.”

Tony paused and glanced over to where Peter was huddled on the floor of the lab. The boy had stopped playing with his animal, but instead was staring down Dum-E, whom Tony had threatened not to startle Peter. Of course, the bot had not listen, but is keeping his distance, whirring a few feet away from the boy and they have a one set of eyes staring competition. Dum-E does not seem to be bothering the boy, or scaring him, at least, so Tony leaves it be for the time being.

“So… he’ll be able to pick it up eventually, right?” Tony asked.

“He should be. Like I said, Peter is extremely smart, he managed to acquire _something_ while with HYDRA, and that’s fantastic. I’ve already seen improvement since he’s been here.”

“So this is half him not having acquired the words yet, and half… HYDRA conditioning telling him he shouldn’t speak?” Tony had clarified.

“I can’t be certain, but it’s my best guess.” Bruce said.

“Great. So we have to somehow gently coax him into saying the correct things, like parents do, without him getting upset because he thinks he said something wrong.”

“We’ll do our best, Tony. It’s all we can do.” Bruce said.

After that talk, the two had mentioned to Thor, the only one of the team not on the HYDRA takedown mission, about Peter’s language problems. Together, the three of them had gently worked on it with the young boy, and they have seen a very small amount of progress, though progress non the less, and Peter is slowly, oh so slowly, beginning to fully trust the team.

Currently, Thor is sitting cross legged with Peter on the floor, Mary placed beside a container of blueberries, which they have quickly realized is the safest food to give Peter as a snack.

Bruce, after examining Peter’s physical examinations, done by both SHIELD and HYDRA, had noticed the boy’s much faster than average metabolism, and realized that Peter was not getting as much sustenance as he needed. The boy in gaining weight, sure, but he is still underweight, because the small amounts of food they had been giving him were simply not enough. Tony quickly had figured out that the best way to get the most nutrients into Peter is to feed him small amounts, such as blueberries, granola, whatever, many time throughout the day, instead of three larger meals that the boy would pick at.

“I am eating some blueberries,” Thor says, before popping a handful of berries into his mouth. Ever since hearing about the feedback and examples that Peter needs from older figures, Thor has been a great help in getting Peter to learn more.

“I eat some bl’berries,” Peter says, smiling at Thor, placing a single blueberry in his own mouth.

“Very close, Peter!” Thor encourages, smiling.

It’s occasionally hard to figure out what Peter actually likes to eat. Whether he likes it or is simply eating it because he was given it, Tony sometimes does not know. They have become more aware of the boy’s facial expressions, when he first tastes something. If the food tastes bad to Peter, he will make a slight face of distaste. He continues to eat, however, until prompted by one of the team members to voice his distaste.

“You want bl’berry, ‘Nee?” Peter suddenly asks, turning to the couch Tony is sitting on, watching the two.

Another thing Tony has come to realize is that Peter is _very_ capable of saying ‘Tony.’ He simply chooses not to, opting to use the little nickname he first called the man by. It doesn’t quite bother the man, and though he would never admit to it, he finds it quite endearing.

“No, thanks, bud,” Tony smiles at the kid.

“I would love a blueberry, Peter!” Thor says when Peter extends the offer to him, subtly correcting the boy yet again.

As the two continue eating their blueberries, Tony is texting Pepper, trying to figure out a solution to his most recent problem.

That morning, Bruce had _once again_ discussed the therapist talk with Tony. After telling the scientist about his conversation with Professor Xavier, Bruce had been very clear in his wishes that they get Peter a therapist. Tony, however, never knowing who he can trust, with the kid’s mutation, HYDRA’s infiltration in literally everything, and a general lack of trust in most people, thinks it’s a very bad idea.

“It’s a bad idea to _not_ have him see somebody, Tony,” Bruce had argued.

“How do we know we can trust them? What if it’s HYDRA? What if they treat Peter badly once they learn of his mutation?” Tony had snapped back. “You heard Xavier, Bruce, mutants aren’t respected, they may think Peter deserves what he got.”

“Tony,” Bruce gently tried to make Tony understand. “We’re delaying the inevitable. Peter is getting better, he’s learning, he’s trusting, but you know more than anyone that one step forwards is another two backwards.”

Tony had sighed and placed his head in his hands. When he gave no response, Bruce opted to continue. “One day, any little thing will set him off, and he can become inconsolable. That kind of trauma on a kid can’t be ignored, especially not with any help.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to wait until that happens before forcing him to see somebody when he doesn’t realize anything is even wrong?” Tony asked.

“Even if it does speed it up, there is no point trying to delay it, Tony. The faster Peter understands what has happened, and accepts that it was wrong, he can start to get better,” He placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “And wouldn’t it be better to have Peter talk with a therapist he already knows and _trusts_ before it happens? It’s much easier to talk to somebody you trust than a stranger, Tony.”

That had been the convincing statement. Tony knew that everything the scientist was saying were true, he was just so, _so_ worried that something might go wrong.

Hence, Tony has gone to Pepper for advice. Leave it to her to find a therapist that everybody can trust.

As she informs Tony that she will do everything she can to find the best option, Thor’s voice catches Tony’s attention just in time for both men to watch Peter let out a very wide yawn.

“Ah, our young warrior has tired himself out! Is it quite time for bed, do you think, Peter?” The large man asks.

Peter nods, rubbing his little fists over his eyes, before reaching on hand out to Tony.

“‘Nee,” he mumbles, waiting for Tony to grasp his hand. When he does, the boy stands up, silently prompting the man to get up as well.

“I guess that settles it; bed time. Say goodnight to Thor, Peter.”

“Goodnight, Thor,” Peter says back, waving to the blond man.

“And a goodnight to you as well, my young friend!” Thor says back.

After getting Peter in his pyjamas, his teeth brushed, and all ready for bed, Tony leads Peter into his bedroom.

Tony had quickly gotten tired of sleeping on his couch every night, Peter beside him, and had tried everything he could to get Peter to sleep in his own room, which the team had set up together, with everything a kid should need in it. He thought that a small bed appropriate for a child would help Peter sleep in it, but the boy refused to sleep in the bed. About two weeks ago, after JARVIS had informed Tony every single night that Peter had become distressed in his own room, Tony had decided to take a new approach.

A nook in Peter’s wall, placed strategically high up on the wall, with no ladder, nothing to get up there unless you were able to scale walls, with the small bed placed upon it. Upon seeing the nook for the first time, Peter had been delighted, and had crawled up the wall to examine the bed. For safety purposes, Tony had installed a safety rail, so Peter did not plummet to the floor in the middle of the night, but kept enough room for the boy to get in and out and he pleases.

Even with the nook installed, Peter still has been having a hard time sleeping in his room by himself. More often than not, JARVIS will awaken Tony and inform him that the boy has become distressed in his bed. The boy never leaves his bed, afraid of bothering Tony, no matter how many times the man tells him it is alright, that he is never bothering him. He always comes to Peter’s rescue and the two return to Tony’s room where they spend the night on the couch. Slowly but surely, Peter is learning to sleep in his own bed, in his own room.

Last night was a bad night. When Tony had arrived into the boy’s room after hearing JARVIS’s signal, Peter had been quietly whimpering, and after coaxing the boy to climb down, Tony carried the boy to his own couch, where he listened to the boy mumble apology after apology. Mary, of course, had come along, and the three sat awake for hours, Tony hushing the boy, Peter quietly apologizing, Mary squeaking.

_No wonder the kid is tired tonight_ , Tony thinks to himself.

“Do you think you’re okay to sleep by yourself, tonight?” Tony asks the boy, kneeling down to get at the pyjama clad boy’s eye level.

Peter nods, and shows Tony his sloth. He never is very vocal when he is tired.

“Yeah, bud, Mary will be with you. But, if you still need more company, if you get scared, you tell JARVIS to get me, or you come get me yourself. Okay?” He coaxes.

Peter nods again before releasing Tony’s hand, which he had been grasping, before scaling the wall and settling into his nook bed. He peeks his head over the rail and gives Tony a tiny wave.

“Goodnight, bud.” Tony says, cuing JARVIS to turn off the light and flicking on Peter’s blue night light, shining the same colour as Tony’s arc reactor, giving the room a warm blue hue.

As Tony exits the room, he looks back and examines Peter, who is quietly whispering to Mary the Sloth, having another one of his private conversations with the animal.

Another thing that concerns Tony is Peter’s connection to the toy. Children have connections with stuffed animals all the time, Bruce had tried to explain to Tony, they treat them like friends and talk to them, it’s no big deal. However, Tony still thinks there is something more to the situation. The night Peter named the animal, mentioning it was the same name as his mother, Tony cannot help but think is the child attempting to… fill the gap his mother left in his life.

He has tried to bring the conversation of Mary the Person with Peter, but Peter had simply looked confused, before pointing to his toy, and continuing on doing whatever he had been doing at that particular time.

Stepping into his own room, Tony lays down on his own bed, sighing, trying to forget all his worries, forget about anything that may come in the future. Peter is safe, bundled into a nook nobody but himself can get to, and JARVIS will tell Tony if anything is wrong.

For the first time in a month, Tony gets a full night sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay omg Bubba is dead!!! Too bad he's already done his damage and will forever live in Peter's trauma :)))))))))
> 
> Also if you ever go to uni or college or whatever and have a spare class, i 100% recommend linguistics, its so fun and i learned so much in it and it helped me so so much for this fic! 
> 
> Also i'm from Canada so may i say Happy Canada Day to all my fellow Canadians who should all spend July 1st doing whatever they love most! Also because I will not likely update by Wednesday, Happy 4th of July to my American friends! 
> 
> I have so much of this fic planned out it's going so well i love that you guy are enjoying it and i hope you continue to enjoy it! Any suggestions or things you wanna see, just let me know! 
> 
> Like always, please leave any kind of comment, negative or not, I love receiving feedback!


	11. im tired ok its chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys im back! this is the longest wait yet for a chapter but it was only like a week and a day so i hope you can forgive me! I hope you like this chapter and it makes up for it!
> 
> Enjoy!

Tony is tinkering in his lab, working on the latest upgrade of his suit, a form of normalcy for the man. However, instead of listening to ACDC on full blast, threatening to burst his ear drums open, Tony is greeted with the quiet background noise of a young child’s one way babbled conversation with his toy sloth.

Peter, who has come to get antsy being away from Tony for more than a couple waking hours at a time, dislikes when Tony spends half the day or more in his lab. The first few times Tony had gone to work in the lab, sans Peter, the boy had spent his time with Thor, something Tony believed Peter would like. However, after a few days of this, Thor had informed Tony that Peter became glum after being away from Tony for more than two or three hours. The boy, according to Thor, would become disinterested in the things Thor tried to do with him, such as reading his books, watching TV, playing with his toys, whatever. Peter would instead half heartedly attempt to show Thor he were paying attention, focusing on the elevator doors, as if willing them to open and reveal Tony.

After hearing this news, Tony had created a little play area in the corner of his lab. It is filled with blankets, pillows, toys, books Peter cannot yet read but enjoys looking at the pictures, and a Stark tablet, in case the boy wishes to watch a show. Bruce had warned him that it could be dangerous to have Peter in the lab, for Tony sometimes tends to zone out and ignore his surroundings. The boy could leave his corner and get hurt, the doctor had argued. Once Tony had assured him that JARVIS would keep and eye on Peter and both tell Tony if the boy had moved without his notice, as well as remind Tony about meal times, bed times, etc. in order to keep onto Peter’s schedule.

So, here Tony is, playing with his tools while Peter sits in his corner. DUM-E has taken a liking to Peter, and the boy seems to enjoy having a robot friend. When Peter is in the lab, the bot is always close behind him, whirring and petting the kid’s hair. When the metal first touched the boy’s head, the cold seemed to startle Peter, but soon he realized that the gentle touch would not get any rougher, and since has seem to enjoy the petting.

“…Then ‘Nee took me… no bad, no, no… Thor say he like… yeah!” Peter mumbles to his sloth, thumb planted straight in his mouth, quiet enough Tony cannot hear the entire sentence.

Peter’s dependence on the sloth still worries Tony to no end. As Peter learns more and more words, and the proper way to form sentences, the more he talks to the sloth. Bruce and Thor think it is just Peter practicing, trying to make up for the time he could not speak, however Tony thinks it goes further than that. The more Peter is able to talk, the more it sounds as if he is not only speaking to the sloth, but formulating answers for it in his head, answering questions only he can hear. Tony isn’t sure if that is normal for a child, but for a kid as messed up as Peter, it doesn’t seem to the man that it can be a good thing.

The thumb chewing is another thing that worries Tony. He understands the need for the kid to suck on his fingers, it’s an anxiety thing, or whatever, but recently the thumb sucking had turned more into thumb gnawing, and the boy bites and he bites until his thumb is raw.

Tony has elected to not confront the kid about it, in fear of saying something wrong, or making Peter think it were an order and he were being forced to stop. Instead, he has been walking on eggshells around the kid, making sure he doesn’t do anything to potentially harm the boy.

It’s not that it matters anyway. Pepper has found an approved, as most likely to not be HYDRA as possible, willing to sign the NDA, willing to work with a tortured mutant kid, willing to work with _Tony Stark’s attitude_ , child therapist. Grace Sandwell, a pretty young woman who received her doctoral degree and then immediately began a free organization for young mutant children who had escaped the Essex Home of Mutant Rehabilitation, a school that had attempted to torture their powers out of the children. Sandwell had agreed to take on Peter’s case before Pepper had offered her any kind of money, only after hearing of the boy’s condition. She is coming to the tower tomorrow morning to meet Peter, claiming she wishes to see how the boy reacts well to her. Tony is still very hesitant, though after doing his research and seeing all credentials, no criminal history, and her agreeing to let Tony in the room while she speaks with Peter, he is willing to give her a try.

A small gasp is let out in the corner of the room, breaking both Tony from his thoughts and Peter from his conversation. Tony looks over at the boy, seeing his head ducked low, thumb having been yanked from his mouth.

“What’s wrong, bud?” Tony asks, brows furrowing in concern. JARVIS would have told him if the boy were hurt, and he did not leave his blanket fort.

Peter shakes his head, curling up into the corner of his play area.

Tony sighs and begins to walk toward the boy. When he reaches the beginning of the pile of blankets, he sits at the very end of them, leaving room between himself and Peter. “Are you okay, Pete?”

The boy nods and curls into himself a tad bit more. Peter’s eyes are clenched shut, and his small body has begun to slightly shake.

“Buddy,” Tony says, slowly reaching out and putting a hand over one of Peter’s socked feet. “Something happened just now. Can you tell me what it was, so I can help you?”

“M’sorry, ‘Nee,” Peter mumbles, head bowed low, and opens his eyes slightly, only to release a quiet yet large stream of tears.

“Hey,” Tony tries to soothe the boy, “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong? Tell me what happened, buddy. I promise I won’t get mad.”

Peter’s tear-filled eyes meet Tony’s, as if trying to figure out whether the man were telling the truth or not. After internally battling with himself, Peter slowly extends his hand, the one he had been gnawing on, which is now clenched in a small and firm fist.

“Did you hurt your hand?”

Peter shakes his head, sniffs, and opens his fist, revealing to Tony what had startled him so much.

Sitting in the middle of the boy’s palm is a little tooth.

“Oh,” Tony says, before letting out a small laugh. “You lost your first tooth.”

Peter’s face morphs into confusion and slight fright. Glancing down at the tooth, he extends it to the man.

Tony attempts to hide his slight repulsion at holding another person’s tooth, even if it is Peter’s. Even so, he plucks the tooth from the boy’s palm and inspects it.

“Hm… this is a nice one. You picked a good one to go first, kid.” He laughs at the boy.

“…First?” Peter asks, hand going back to his own mouth, as if to touch the spot the tooth had fallen out of.

The realization hits Tony hard, and it angers him that he did not think of this sooner. Of course, HYDRA didn’t spend the time to teach the kid about any of that stuff, they didn’t teach him to read, let alone remind him his baby teeth will fall out eventually. The kid probably thinks he did it.

“Yeah, bud. When you grow up, your body gets bigger, and your teeth don’t fit in your mouth anymore.” At Peter’s shocked look, he quickly continues, “But! There’s a but! You’ll grow new ones! You’ll get your adult teeth! See all my teeth?” He bares his teeth so they are on display for the boy. “All these, they grew in when I was around your age, I had a my baby teeth fall out so they could grow in. It’s perfectly normal and not your fault, kid.”

Peter examines Tony’s teeth before mimicking the man in his own teeth bare. Tony almost looses his composure of the sight of the boy. One of the kid’s top front two teeth is missing, leaving a giant gaped hole. It looks downright adorable.

“That’s right, kid. Soon you’ll have big teeth just like mine,” he says, smiling down at the boy.

“Like ‘Nee,” Peter mumbles, crawling toward the man and curling up on his lap to hug him.

Tony freezes before lightly hugging the kid back. It is so rare that Peter be the one to initiate contact, he prefers to either not touch anybody, or let them come to him. When he is the one to initiate this uncommon contact, especially in loving ways such as this, Tony is amazed at how the kid has come in such a short period of time, yet the boy seems to be repressing the events that went on at HYDRA, with Bubba, and that won’t help him in the long run.

Tony hopes that tomorrow won’t ruin these kind of moments for the kid.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Grace Sandwell is a bitch. A stone cold, brick wall, of a bitch. That being said, she is the perfect candidate to help Peter and everybody knows it from the minute she walks into the room.

Peter had been a tad fussy that morning. Not even close to what most people would determine a fussy child, but for passive little Peter, Tony could see the boy was in a mood. Perhaps, the man thinks, the boy is afraid of what will happen with the therapist. Bruce had tried his best to explain to Peter what Dr. Sandwell would be doing, though Peter seemed to cling onto the “doctor” part much more than the “helping him” part.

When Tony stepped into Peter’s room to get him for ready breakfast, the boy had been on the ceiling rather than in his nook bed. He remained hesitant to get down, get dressed, and he barely ate anything. Despite Tony’s constant reassurance that everything is fine, that he will not leave Peter once throughout the meeting, Peter looked pale and sick, as if he were about to be marched straight back into a HYDRA lab.

When they entered the room, a guest living quarters nobody really uses that Tony had set up for the meeting, Dr. Sandwell had been sitting on a long couch, doodling onto a notebook. She stood up and completely ignored Tony, instead focused on Peter.

“You must be Peter. I’m Grace,” she says as she kneels down to be at his height. She was dressed very unprofessionally, in a bright pink sweater and patterned leggings. For someone with a PhD and years of experience, Dr. Sandwell looks about 22 years old.

Peter looks up at Tony before dropping his head, peeking at Dr. Sandwell from under his lashes. “…Doctor?” Peter mumbles, hiding his face even more.

Dr. Sandwell gives Tony a murderous glare, as if chiding him for Peter’s reluctance, before talking to the boy.

“I just want to be your friend, Peter. If you want to. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want, okay?” She said, studying his reaction.

“Like… like Thor is… Peter’s friend?” the boy asks.

Dr. Sandwell catches Tony’s nod in the corner of her eye before answering. “Yes, Peter. I want to be your friend like Thor is your friend,” she says.

Peter allows her to take him to the couch where she had been sitting alone, but instead of sitting on the furniture, Dr. Sandwell plops down on the floor cross-legged. Peter, following her example, sits across from her, staring at his feet.

“I love your hoodie, Peter,” she starts, pointing to the boy’s apparel. Tony had a hard time dressing the boy that morning, with his fussiness, and Peter only wished to wear the slightly too large Iron Man hoodie Pepper had gotten him. Once the hoodie had been placed over his head, thankfully the boy did not have a problem with putting on the pants.

“It ‘Nee,” Peter says, pointing to the hoodie as well.

She smiles at him. “Did Tony get you that hoodie?”

Peter nods at her. His mouth opens slightly before closing it again. This repeats a few more times, long enough for Tony to try and tell the boy he is allowed to speak, before being cut off from another stern look from the therapist.

Not long after, however, Peter seems to decide it is safe to speak on his own, and begins to speak to her. Though hesitant at first, the more the boy speaks, seeing her pleasant and interested face, he opens up more and gets comfortable, and soon he is speaking to her at the level in which he would speak to Tony or Thor. Not much as they would like, but enough for them to know he trusts them.

Tony watches as Peter tells Dr. Sandwell about his hoodie, about how Iron Man saved him from the scary lab people, how Tony said he could live with him and how he would never have to go back to them. He introduces her to Mary, whom had been protectively hidden in the pocket of his hoodie, until he knew it was safe enough for her to come out. Dr. Sandwell makes a point of shaking hands with the sloth, with Peter’s permission, introducing herself to the toy, and for the remainder of the hour, they get to know one another.

Once the hour is over, Tony has Thor collect Peter from the room to make him lunch, and once the boy says goodbye to his new friend, it is just Tony and Dr. Sandwell in the room.

“So, Mr. Stark,” Dr. Sandwell says, finally giving Tony the time of day.

“Dr. Sandwell,” he replies, extending his hand to her.

As she takes it, Dr. Sandwell sizes him up from head to toe. “Mr. Stark, if we want Peter to not think I’m a doctor, it’s best you call me Grace as well.”

“Then you can call me Tony,” he says back.

“Alright, Tony,” she says, before taking a step back. “Do you plan on adopting Peter anytime?”

“Wha… _adopting him_?”

“Yes,” she says as if it were obvious, “It’s when a person or two decide to take on parental rights of a child who is”-

“I know what adoption is,” Tony says, “I’m just not sure why you assume I’m going to adopt Peter.”

“Well, you’ve allowed the boy to imprint on you like a baby duckling. Though not entirely on you, you’ve let him spend months building up a bond he hasn’t been able to produce with anybody since his parents died,” Grace says. “The boy’s spent twice as long in his life with no parents than with. It’s no shock factor to see he wants to see that in you, the first person to show him true kindness in over four years.”

“Peter is dead in the eyes of the government,” Tony tries to explain, “They think he died in that plane crash, bringing it to their attention he lived and was taken would”-

“So, that’s you’re plan?” She mocks. “Hide the ghost boy here, with no paper trails, not letting him life any kind of normal life?”

“What do you think we’re doing here? Locking him up so he can’t go out into the world?” Tony accuses.

“What I _think_ , Mr. Stark,” she pointedly says, “is that you are becoming a helicopter parent, whether you want to believe it or not. Overprotection, walking eggshells around Peter, not wanting to emit any kind of negative reaction from him. It isn’t healthy.”

“I want what HYRDRA did to him to go away! I don’t want to trigger anything that could put him off! That’s why I hired you in the first place!”

“That’s why I’m here. To help Peter heal from his trauma,” she tries to explain to him. “It won’t just go away. Given his age, it could fade from his memory, but his shadow will always hold what they did to him. I want him to be able to cope with that shadow, Tony.”

Tony pauses and takes a deep breath. Counts to ten in his head, placing a hand over his chest. Before he can say anything, Grace beats him to it.

“What about Ben and May Parker?”

Tony hesitates. “What about them?”

“They’re his aunt and uncle, Tony. Has nobody told them he was alive?” She says, furrowing her eyebrows.

“They… they think he died. I didn’t want to bring the trauma of his brother dying back to the guy,” he says.

“That’s bullshit,” she calls him out. “You think they would mind a reminder of a plane crash if they knew they’re nephew had survived? I think you just don’t want to risk them fighting you for custody.”

“Look, when Peter gets better, I’ll tell them, and if they want to take him, they can have him,” Tony offers.

“It’s too late for that,” she says. “Peter relies on you. He’s obviously using that stuffed animal as some symbolic way to grieve his mother. But _you’re_ the one he sees as his parental figure. Handing him over to Ben and May would be betrayal to Peter.”

“So… what do you want me to do?” Tony asks, raising his hands in mock self defence.

“I want you to cut the bullshit, and stop acting like you only half ass care for this child. Nobody is buying it. I’ve had many discussions with Ms. Potts, and she admits the same. You need to wise up and help, rather than tip toe around Peter. You need to contact the Parker’s. They’ll want to meet their nephew,” she says, raising her voice with every point. “And, god, Tony, I can’t stop you if you don’t want responsibility for the boy, but get the paperwork so he isn’t a ghost anymore.”

“You… are a real nightmare,” Tony accuses.

“But damn if I don’t get the job done,” she says back, before grabbing her bag and walking out the door, calling behind her, “Same time Thursday?”

When Tony gets up to the common room, Peter and Thor are munching away on dry Lucky Charms, while Peter tries to tell Thor how much he adored Grace’s sweater, and he thinks it is his favourite colour. Having asked this question to the boy many times, and never getting a true answer, only a simple “every colour,” and now one session with the therapist made the boy decide neon pink is his favourite colour, Tony decides that maybe this unconventional therapist is just what Peter needs.

Maybe it’s time for him to ring up a certain family in Queens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Grace ok she is my favourite. She is also very OFC because I couldnt find a good marvel therapist to use. 
> 
> Like always, please leave any comments, and i'll try to update ASAP!! 
> 
> Next time on DWBW: Ben and May!!!


	12. welcome to the parker's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Two chapters in two days?? I hope that makes up for the long gap in between 10 and 11. I was too excited about ben and may i had to keep writing. This may the longest or second longest chapter so far so thats good. 
> 
> TW for this chapter: Discussions of Child Human Experimentation, Torture, Starvation, etc.   
> TW for this chapter: Discussions of Child Sexual Abuse

The first thing that comes to Tony’s mind as he steps foot into the Parker’s apartment building is a blatant lack of security that is around the room. HYDRA could be in and out with a certain child within two minutes, completely unnoticed by anybody, should he live here.

_Knock it off, Stark_ , he thinks to himself. The minute Tony gets the documents that officially state Peter is alive, the Parker’s have every right to custody of the boy. Maybe they would take an offer for better housing, or around the clock security… he shakes his head, clearing his mind of those thoughts. 

As he walks up the four flights of stairs, scoffing at the buildings broken elevator, Tony has to remind himself several times not to turn back and run. It would be so simple. There’s no security cameras in this building, there would be no way for them to know that Tony was ever here.

Yet, here he is, standing in front a dingy apartment door with a simple key lock anyone with a five dollar lock pick could break into. He hesitates, takes a few deep breaths, gathers his thoughts, as if he hasn’t been practising this talk for days, and knocks on the door.

The next few moments are the longest and most daunting of his life. He just has enough time to consider that maybe they are not home, when the door creaks open, revealing a tall brunet man. Tony stares at him, trying to find some sort of resemblance to Peter, but he comes up short, besides maybe the brown eyes. He realizes that he has not said anything to the man, when his voice cuts into the air.

“What do you want?” Ben Parker asks, narrowing his eyes at the man in his doorway.

Tony coughs slightly to clear his heavy throat. “Ben Parker?”

“Yes. What do you want?” He repeats. “We already told them; we had no information or idea what my brother was researching.”

“Mr. Parker, I assure you, that isn’t the reason for my visit,” Tony tries to calmly explain.

Ben mockingly laughs at the man. “Oh, so there is another reason for Tony Stark, known associate of SHIELD, to be knocking on my door, other than to accuse, yet again, that I’m lying about Richard’s work?”

“There is another reason, Mr. Parker, so if you could please… let me in, you might want to sit down to hear the news,” Tony says to the man. After hearing this, the other man’s face drops slightly, then narrows his eyes suspiciously.

“This isn’t going to end in another sweep of my apartment, right?” Ben asks.

“Not at all. I won’t touch anything, and I’ll leave right now if you don’t want me here,” Tony offers.

Ben hesitates, looks behind him to something or someone that Tony can not see from behind the door. The taller man looks back, and without another work, opens the door further, allowing Tony entrance.

Looking around, Tony can see the Parker’s have done what they could to make a shitty apartment look homey. Pieces of cheap yet nice artwork scatter the walls, as well as bookshelves that tie the room together. A window that looks out to a fire escape, another easy accessible entrance to the room, unsafe.

“Is your wife home?” Tony asks. “She should probably be here.”

“I don’t want to involve her in SHIELD business, Mr. Stark. She’s been through enough,” Ben says, not having moved from his spot at the door he has since closed.

“As i said before, this isn’t SHIELD business, in fact I’m trying to get SHIELD as far away from this case as possible,” Tony explains.

“Is this an illegal matter? Are you getting me involved in something I’ll have to withhold from the government? Because if so, you need to leave right now, they’re still knocking on our door, asking about my brother,” Ben threatens.

“Relax, Mr. Parker. SHIELD knows about it, I’m just making sure they don’t get involved in a matter that doesn’t concern them,” Tony explains, fiddling with a small piece of decor on the table he is standing beside. “It’s come to my attention that it concerns you, however, so here I am.”

“Ben?” A woman says, walking into the living area from a room deeper in the apartment. She has bags under her eyes that look as if they have been growing for years. She stops short when she sees Tony, and looks between the two of them. “Oh. What’s going on?” She asks.

“Mrs. Parker, I presume?” Tony asks, moving to shake her hand. “Tony Stark,” he introduces himself.

“I’m well aware, Mr. Stark. I thought they decided we weren’t involved in Richard’s work?” May says, glancing at her husband.

“Mr. Stark claims this isn’t about that,” Ben says to her, finally moving from his spot to stand near her.

May hesitates, brows furrowing as if wondering what they could possibly have to offer Tony Stark.

“If you could take a seat, I can explain to you exactly my purpose for being here,” Tony says, gesturing the one of the couches.

As all three of them sit, the Parker’s on the couch, Tony on an adjoining chair, Tony quickly tries to figure out how he should start the conversation.

“About two months ago, while on a basic sweep of a HYDRA base that SHIELD had previously discovered, we came across somebody…” Tony starts, hesitating on the real news. How does one tell a family that their nephew isn’t dead?

“No,” Ben says, hearing Tony’s hesitation. “There is no way that Richard would ever willingly work for HYDRA,” he looks towards May, whom is looking just as disappointed as her husband. “There’s no way. I know my brother. If they did anything to him, or with his research, he didn’t do it on his own free will.”

“Mr. Parker,” Tony states. “I assure you that nobody believes your brother was ever a part of HYDRA. We believe they had attempted to contact him, before the plane crash.” The mention of the crash had both his companions flinching. “However, Richard was very assuredly not tempted, and he refused. This is most likely why the crash was set up.”

May takes a deep breath. “They told us the crash was likely set up… but why set it up if they were going to take him?”

Tony then realizes that this talk is not going the way he had hoped. He has somehow led them of a path to believe that Richard was the one they had found, and now he has to derail the conversation back to Peter.

“Mrs. Parker, Mr. Parker… it wasn’t Richard that was found in the HYDRA base,” Tony explains. “Once they realized they wouldn’t get what they wanted from Richard himself, they thought the best way to get his research would be… to get rid of him.”

Ben makes an affronted noise from deep in his throat. “So, what? You came here to confirm a theory we were already told of? Reminding me that my brother and his family were murdered? Richard, Mary,” Ben takes a deep breath and closes his eyes before quietly whispering, “Peter.”

“That’s not your fault, Ben, it’s nobody’s fault but theirs,” May hushes the man.

“He wasn’t supposed to _be there_! If only I had…,” Ben trails off, putting his head in his hands. May puts a hand over Ben’s back, soothingly rubbing circles into it.

“I’m sorry, am I missing something?” Tony asks.

May gives Tony a cutting glare, silently warning him to shut up, before looking back at her husband.

“No, no, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Ben says, voice slightly cracking.

“Ben,” May says heartbreakingly.

“Peter… our nephew, Richard’s son,” Ben explains. “He was supposed to stay with us while his parents went on that trip.” He pauses, gripping May’s hand, before continuing. “We were running short on money at the time, and May had just gotten a huge promotion, so she couldn’t take time off…”

“It _wasn’t_ your fault, Benjamin,” May says sternly. “There is _no way_ you could have known what would happen.”

May reminds Tony very much of Pepper, who has countless times consoled Tony about his worries in this exact stern tone. He decides he likes the woman. She obviously loves her husband, and the pair of them must have loved Peter and his parents deeply.

“I told May that Richard and Mary decided to take Peter on the trip with them, give him some new scenery,” Ben continues, head still facing the ground. “In reality they had no choice.” He gives a humourless chuckle. “I had the opportunity to do a week long construction job, making a lot of money. I told them we couldn’t watch him.” There is a silence in the room that Tony is afraid to break, and it seems May is as well, before the man finishes by saying, “I’m the reason that Peter is _dead_.”

“Don’t you dare,” May orders. “Don’t you _dare_ , Ben. Peter is gone for one reason, and it’s because of HYDRA. You thought he would be safe with his parents, why wouldn’t he be? If you knew for a second what was going on in Richard’s career you would have taken Peter immediately.”

The room goes silent once again while the two console each other. Tony’s mind begins to race, thinking once again how he can turn this conversation back on the right track. He had first made the two think Richard was alive, and now they’re discussing who is at fault for the death of a child who isn’t dead. At this point, he decides that he might as well cut the line of tension that is holding them all together.

“That’s why I’m here, actually,” he says, watching both of their heads snap to him, as if they had forgotten he were in the room. “The person we found in the HYDRA facility was Peter Parker.”

Silence.

Silence.

More silence.

A sniff.

Silence.

Some more silence.

Tony uncomfortably cleared his throat.

Silence.

Silence.

Until, so hesitantly, as if she were afraid of waking up from a dream she must have had countless times over the last four years, May’s voice breaks the silence.

“Peter’s… alive?”

“Very.”

Simultaneously, as if they were only one person, Ben and May let out moans of anguish. They both began to cry, making Tony even more uncomfortable than he was with the silence, crying until they had no more tears left.

“Wait,” Ben speaks, voice rough from the tears. “What was he doing there? It’s been four years, surely they didn’t just spare his life because of his age.”

“That’s where it gets…difficult,” Tony chooses to say.

“Difficult?” May exclaims. “You’re telling us that after _four years_ , our nephew who’s been dead all this time, isn’t actually dead? Of course it’s difficult!”

“May,” Ben quietly calls off, stroking his hands through her hair.

“You’re brother, Mr. Parker, was a brilliant scientist. I’m sure you know that,” Tony starts, praising himself for the good start. “Were you aware about what he was studying?”

“Something about… genetics? He always said it was confidential, that he couldn’t say a lot,” Ben responds.

“Yeah, Cross-Species Genetics, to be specific,” Tony explains. “Mixing one DNA of species with another. Decided on mixing human DNA with spiders, for some reason. It would have been easier to use that of a closer species, but who am I to judge.”

“Stark,” Ben warns.

“Sorry,” Tony says, “Got a bit off topic. We don’t know how exactly HYDRA got work of his work, or why they wanted it, but they did, and he wouldn’t give it to them. Hence why they hijacked the plane.”

“What does this have to do with Peter?” May asks.

“It’s really hard to work with DNA, because everybody’s is different. HYDRA scientists aren’t the best, but they must have known that.” Tony trails off slightly. “Richard, in his early experiments, would use his own DNA in the crossing. So all the research HYDRA took was formulas and results that match with Richard Parker’s DNA.”

“So,” Tony continues. “In order to get a better use of his results, it’s obvious that they would have needed DNA that matched or somewhat matched his own.”

“Peter’s,” May whispers, hand coming up to cover her mouth in horror.

“Why didn’t they just take Richard, then?” Ben asks.

“That, we don’t know for sure. We have theories,” he claims.

“Which are?” Ben demands.

“Richard would have done anything in his power to go against them; tampering with the results, defying every order, experiment, etc. He was 31 years old, so they may have wanted a younger… test subject,” he cringes as he says that word.

“They tortured him?” May asks, hand still hovering over her mouth.

Tony sighs. “I promised myself coming here that I wouldn’t lie to you,” he says mostly to himself.

“The don’t,” Ben states.

“They were combining the DNA of a spider to that of a human. Peter, in this case, to make a mutation that, what we believe, they could train as a weapon, similar to that of the Winter Solider?” He asks, stating like a question to confirm their knowledge of the man.

“Did… did it work?” May gasps, eyes growing wide.

“It did. It couldn’t have been a good feeling, either. Having your DNA completely shifted like that,” he cringes, imagining the pain the child he has come to care about so much must have been in.

“What happened with him? Is he half spider now?” Ben asks, looking confused as to how that could work.

“When we tested his DNA, to try and find his identity, it was still mostly human, the DNA of the spider just fused itself into his own cells. He still looks and sounds like a human,” he consoles them.

“So he has human DNA and spider DNA?” May asks. “Does that affect him at all?”

“He has symptoms, yes. His strength is off the charts, he’s faster than an average kid, his senses are intensely heightened, his metabolism is insane, and he can climb walls, but health wise it seems to”-

“Climb walls!?” Ben exclaims, eyebrows furrowing, imagining the 2 year old nephew he remembers climbing walls.

“Yeah. Like a spider. Still not sure how that entirely works,” Tony says.

“Do you have a picture?” May suddenly asks. “He would be six now, he’ll be so much bigger.”

“Um,” Tony says, about to say no, until both of their hopeful faces convince him to find a goddamn picture of the boy.

“JARVIS,” Tony says into his phone, which has the AI imbedded into it. “Pull up a picture of Peter from the security cams at the tower, yeah? Zoom in on him.”

The photo JARVIS displays on the phone is one from the previous night, when Tony and Peter had been sitting in the older man’s room, Tony retrieving a book he could read to Peter for the night. The boy is clad in pink plaid pyjamas, pink being his newfound favourite colour.

Looking at the photo, both of Tony’s companions seem close to tears yet again. May has her hands locked around the phone, gripping it tight enough that, if she were Steve, it would have snapped in two.

“My baby boy,” she whimpers, stroking a finger over his digitalized face. “He’s so much bigger now, but… he’s too small,” she whispers. “Too small for a six year old.”

“We’re working on that,” Tony defends. “He was much worse when we found him.”

That seems to be the wrong kind of news to break to the woman. Tears fill her eyes and she goes back to examining the picture.

“What did they do to him?” Ben whispers, looking up from the picture at Tony. “It wasn’t only mixing the DNA, was it?”

“No,” Tony states clearly. “I’ll be honest, we don’t know the extends of it. But it was bad. They were looking to make a weapon, they wanted to exhaust all boundaries of the mutation. There is profound scarring around Peter’s whole body, but worse on his wrists, because they were trying to find a way to get him to shoot webs like a spider.” He pauses then, examining their reaction to the torture, in case he had gone too far and needed to stop.

Both Ben and May seem to be trying to process this information as fast as possible, but are having a difficult time with it. Seeing that the man is not continuing, May encourages him to keep talking.

“I don’t think it would be wise to”- He is cut off by the woman.

“I need to know what they did to my baby, Mr. Stark,” she cuts into him, Ben nodding along beside her.

Tony sighs before continuing. “He was obviously starved and beaten, for misbehaving, or what they thought was misbehaving. That included crying, talking, i don’t know what else.”

“He wasn’t allowed to talk?” May says, letting out a small sob. “He was always talking as a baby, he picked up on it so quickly, always babbling about something or another.”

“That significantly helped him, actually. His ability to pick up things so quickly. We’ve been working with him on speaking, his linguistic ability isn’t near what a six year old’s should be at, but he’s improving drastically,” Tony informs them.

“What else did they do?” Ben asks.

Tony hesitates. “Like I said, we don’t know the extents, they didn’t exactly leave us a notebook of everything they did to hurt him,” he tries to say.

“Bullshit. You’re hiding something from us. What did they do that you don’t want us to know? What’s worse than torturing a baby like that?” Ben accuses the man.

“There was this man that worked in the facility. He wasn’t a doctor, maybe a guard? He never clarified. He… took advantage of Peter,” he says as gently as possible.

“What do you mean by ‘took advantage’?” Ben asks, sounding like he fully knows what Tony means.

“Nobody was treating that kid with any form of kindness there. The only thing he had to go off of was a faint memory of his family, if he remembered them at all,” Tony explains, searching their faces for any glimpse of realization so that he could stop. After not seeing it, he continued. “This man, he knew Peter didn’t have any kind feelings being thrown his way. So he would treat him with kindness, a praise here, maybe gave him a pillow, I don’t know. And then… he would… force him into sexually activity.”

May lets out a large sob. “He raped a child?” Ben places a hand on her shoulder, face hard as stone.

“As far as we can tell, and what he’s told us, he never… penetrated him.” Tony doesn’t mention that Bubba had told him what he had been planning to do with the kid, given more time. “But yes, he sexually abused Peter.”

Ben’s cold gaze meets Tony’s. The man looks ready to kill somebody.

“Where is this man now?” He asks Tony.

“Dead.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” Tony clarifies.

“Good.” The man closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“How do you do that to a child?” May asks around a sob. “How do you… how do you go to sleep at night knowing that a _baby_ is suffering because of what you did?”

“They’re despicable people, Mrs. Parker,” Tony tries to console her the best he can.

“May,” she says, looking up at him. “Call me May, please.”

“May,” he says back to her. “I’m Tony.”

“He’s safe, at your tower?” She asks him.

“He’s in the safest place he could be in the world.”

“Good,” she responds, staring into his eyes, her teary brown eyes meeting his. “You care about him,” she suddenly says.

“Yes,” Tony replies, not bothering denying his feelings for the kid.

“And he trusts you?” May asks him.

“As much as he can trust anybody after what he’s been through, I think.”

“That’s good,” she says, looking back at the photo that is still open in front of her. “Does he ever smile? He’s not in the photo.”

“Not often. He gets scared a lot. Frightens easily at noises or movement he doesn’t see coming. He laughs more often, now, which is good. It took a long time for us to get him to even talk, he was afraid,” he trails off slightly. Seeing her look of encouragement, he keeps going. “He didn’t have a bed there, I think he slept on the ceiling, because of his powers. He doesn’t like beds, told me he only ever went on one when he would… yeah. I made him this little nook bed, near the top of his ceiling, he likes it up there.”

“Is it safe up there?”

“There’s a railing, he can get in and out, but can’t roll out,” he answers honestly. “We recently got him a therapist, her name’s Grace… or Dr. Sandwell… Peter loves her.”

“A therapist?” Ben pipes up. “Is she qualified to take on the extent of what he went through?”

“She’s the best person we could have gotten. Worked with mutant children who were tortured at some school… She’s the one who encouraged me to talk to you.”

“Well, then I like her,” May says smiling.

Tony watches the two, seeing both the pain of the knowledge of what has happened to Peter, but also something he was not expecting to see. Almost a kind of relief, as if the burden of knowing Peter was alive, like his death had weighed on their shoulders for the last four years. Suddenly Tony is very confident that coming here had been the best idea.

“A big reason we decided it was time to tell you,” he starts, ignoring their affronted looks at being told there was an elective decision to _not_ tell them. “Dr. Sandwell brought to my attention that in order for Peter to recover fully, to gain his own autonomy, he needs to officially be alive. The government still sees him as dead, and we need to change that.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Ben says. “We don’t have his birth certificate or anything.”

“It’s not that,” Tony clarifies. “It’s that, once the government finds out he is alive, not only will they be up our asses about what happened with HYDRA, but we’re good at hiding that stuff from the public,” he pauses to take a breath. “Richard and Mary Parker’s will both stated that should anything happen to them, Peter shall be placed within your care.”

“Yeah…” Ben trails off, knowing fully well that the will had said that. “That was before he was taken and tortured for four years.”

“Ben!” May exclaims, visibly moving back from where she had been pressed against him.

“I’m not saying that I don’t want him! I would never do that to Peter! Especially after what I did to him…” Before May can get anything in, Ben cuts her off. “Don’t you think he would both be safer _and_ more comfortable in a place he knows? We’re strangers to him, May.”

May sighs. “I know,” she sniffs. “It would be best for him to stay at the tower, I know that.” She looks up at Tony. “Would you be willing to let him stay there?”

Tony blinks. This is not what he was expecting from the couple. “Of course. The only thing is, social services may be up our asses, trying to get him to go with you.”

“You want to adopt him,” Ben says abruptly.

“I know Peter is your family, Mr. Parker, and that he belongs with you, and if he could stay with me until he recovered enough, I would be more than willing,” Tony says. “However, he needs to be with a guardian, they don’t make exceptions for cases like this.”

“Adopt him,” May says. When both men look at her, she lets out a sigh. “I love Peter. I haven’t seen my baby in over four years, but I have never once stopped loving that boy. Of course, in a perfect world, where he wasn’t taken and _tortured_ , I would have taken him. But he wasn’t. We can’t kid ourselves into thinking he is the same boy who last left our house laughing with his mommy.”

“May,” Ben says, reaching to give her a hug as once again, tears fill her eyes.

“Adopt him, Tony. Take care of him. All I ask is one thing,” she says.

“Anything,” Tony responds.

“Let us be in his life. Let him know he still has his aunt and uncle, who love him very much, let him learn to trust us the way he does with you,” May asks, hugging her husband.

“Of course,” Tony says. “It was never an idea to leave you two out of his life. You’re the only family he has left.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” May says, giving him a pointed look. “You make sure that boy knows you love him unconditionally.”

Tony doesn’t answer, instead looks down at the ground. Of course, it is more difficult than simply doing that, he thinks. The only person Peter ever remembers expressing love to him in an explicit way such as outright saying it, had been Bubba. They are still very unsure as to how much the boy remembers of his mother, so perhaps he remembers her as well. However, when he had first arrived to the tower, Peter, in his obsession to be obedient, would silently try and offer sexual favours to those kind to him. Though he has since stopped that, and seems to be understanding that people do not want that, that it is bad, he is still having a hard time about the Bubba issue.

Every time they had tried to bring up Bubba to him, hesitantly, as if afraid to bring out a negative reaction, Peter’s ears perk up and he looks _excited_ for the man. He claims the man loved him, and Tony is afraid that if anyone say the same, Peter will place them in the same category. He does not _ever_ wish to be placed in the same category as that cruel, disgusting man. Hopefully rotting in hell right now, this man still has his rope tied tight around the child’s neck, pulling and controlling him, and Tony desperately wishes that Peter would just break free from it.

_One day at a time,_ Dr. Sandwell told him, _It won’t come easily, everyday will be a struggle, but one day will come, and Peter will realize that isn’t how you love someone._

Every time Peter smiles at him, at Thor, at the squeal of his sloth, Tony sees another step towards improvement. Soon, he will be reunited with his aunt and uncle, and they will have more people to teach him what it truly means to love. Eventually, as painstakingly miserable the in between will be for all parties involved, Peter will be able to tear the rope from around his neck, stomp on it, and throw it back to hell where it belongs.

For the time being, however, Tony will sit here with May and Ben, talking about the boy, discuss a time for them to come visit, do whatever they wish for the time being because this is Peter’s family.

Peter has a family, no matter what he thinks, and they will be by his side through his entire recovery, and HYDRA will eventually just be a bad, bad memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ben and may are nice, who thought I would ever be able to make them mean?? Aunt May is my favourite MCU character bc my kink is supportive parental figures. 
> 
> I know peter hasn't been around much in the last two chapters, but i promise he'll be the focus of tony's attention (as if he ever isnt) in the next one! 
> 
> if you enjoyed please leave a comment! I throughly enjoy reading them, and even the smallest one puts a smile on my face!


	13. my sweet little boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm so sorry this is so late (and so short), but my excuse is legit this time! My work decided to put me in a management position (at 18 years old!!!!) and i was like, ight cool ill still be part time, but NO??? I'm working like 9 hours a day almost every day and i have no energy to write! I will try to get some more up soon! 
> 
> TW: mentions of cuts/scars on one's wrists, and the action of getting them, though not self inflicted.

“Sir.”

“Mmmmf,” he mumbles, burying his head into his pillow. It feels like he had only been asleep for ten minutes, having stayed until the early hours of the morning in his lab.

“Sir, if I may,” JARVIS’ voice pierces into his skull.

“Mmmmm go ‘way.” The pillow muffles his voice significantly, but the AI has no trouble picking up on it.

“Sir, Peter seems to be in distress in his bedroom,” JARVIS says.

Suddenly, as if doused with ice cold water, Tony’s head shoots up from his pillow. Peter comes before sleep, Tony needs the kid to know that.   
Sleep completely forgotten, Tony gets out of bed and definitely does not run to the kids room. He just… walks a bit faster than he usual does.

When he steps into the kid’s room, he takes in the soft blue light on the wall, giving a soft ambience to the room. He peeks as much as he can into Peter’s bed nook, but the boy must be pressed against the far wall, ad Tony cannot see him from his position on the floor. Having become aware of the kid’s insane senses, Tony doesn’t doubt that Peter knows he is there, or somebody at least.

“Hey buddy,” Tony says gently, starting the normal routine he always does when Peter has a nightmare. JARVIS tells him Peter has had a nightmare, is in distress, and depending on the severity of the dream and the specifics of the dream, it can take one minute to thirty to convince the boy to come down.

A small whimper comes from the nook. Tony waits for a minute, to see what the boy may do. If he does not receive anymore reactions from Peter, he will continue talking, but sometimes, Grace has informed him, it is better to let Peter come to you.

Just like he thought, after a minute of patiently waiting, Tony spots messy brown curls slowly, ever so slowly poking over the railing. The creeping continues until wide brown eyes meet Tony’s. Seeing the man, Peter seems to be deflate, the relief of still being in the tower with Tony comforting him. Tony fully understands waking up from a nightmare unsure where you are, and no visual surroundings help. Sometimes, you just need a physical presence from somebody you trust to be able to fully realize your surroundings.

Peter sniffs, looking down at Tony, as if trying to decide if he was safe enough to climb down to the man or not. This time, Tony decides that he should try and talk to the kid.

“Having some bad dreams, huh bud?” Peter wipes his snotty nose with the back of his hand, before nodding at the man. “Do you want to come down with me? Or stay up in your bed?”

Recently, they have been working with giving Peter choices whenever possible. When given options, according to Grace, they are building Peter’s independence and his ability to feel in control of things in his life. By choosing things for himself, and having the choice be acknowledged, Peter is given the chance to see that his thoughts and decisions are valued by people around him.

After hesitating for a minute, as he always does, as if trying to figure out which answer Tony wishes him to choose, Peter climbs over the railing of the bed and scales down the wall. He stops a few feet away from the man, foot skimming on the floor, as if afraid of reaching out to Tony. Seeing the boy’s hesitation, Tony extends a hand forward, silently offering to for the young boy to hold. Peter quickly grabs hold of the man’s hand, bringing his other hand along as well to cup both sides of Tony’s hand.

“Do you want to go to my room?” Tony asks the boy.

Peter is silent, frowning slightly before nodding hesitantly.

“Hey, c’mon now, buddy. We’ve talked about this. You gotta tell me if you want something, I won’t get upset,” Tony reminds him for the thousandth time.

Peter looks conflicted, steadily moving his gaze from the ground to Tony’s face. After a while of this, the boy starts walking out of the room, hands firmly grasping the man’s hand, dragging Tony along to the kitchen.

When they step into the middle of the kitchen, Peter stops and turns around to look at the man expectantly.

“Are you hungry?” Tony asks. Peter shakes his head, tugging slightly on Tonys arm.

“Sir,” JARVIS says, blessing Tony from not having to continue playing the guessing game. “If I am not wrong, I believe Peter is trying to ask for some warm milk, as he very much enjoyed it with Dr. Banner a few nights ago.”

Oh. Tony sort of forgot about that. The other night, running on no sleep and barely any coffee, Tony had been dragging, ready to collapse, when Peter had woken up from a nightmare. God knows Tony cares about the kid, but he was just about ready to cry after receiving JARVIS’ warning. Bruce, seeing Tony’s exhaustion, offered to go see the boy himself. Now, Peter has always woken up to Tony’s face, nightmare or not, so he was hesitant to have Bruce go. Instead, Bruce had Tony bring Peter to the kitchen, where he met them with warm milk, reading to the boy as Tony dozed at the counter.

The boy seemed to enjoy the milk, and after JARVIS’ reminder of the beverage, Peter begins to bounce slightly on his toes, giving Tony all the information he needed to know his AI was correct.

“Okay,” Tony says, smiling at the kid. “Warm milk. So I just have to… warm up some milk? In the… microwave?” He has no idea how to make warm milk.

After having JARVIS guide him through making Bruce’s milk, which is much more complex than Tony originally thought, the two are sitting on the couch in the living room, Peter sipping warm milk, whilst Tony downs some coffee. He won’t be getting much more sleep tonight.

As Peter moved his cup to his mouth, Tony’s attention was brought to the kid’s wrist. Peter’s left wrist was rubbed raw, as if the kid has been scratching it for hours. The scars that littered it were irritated, looking a much deeper red than they had been before.

“Peter…,” Tony trails off, watching the boy focus his attention on him. “What happened to your wrist, buddy?”

Peter glances at his wrist, tries to hide it into his own body, shying away from Tony.

“Hey, hey, please don’t do that, Pete, I just want to help, make sure you aren’t hurt,” Tony tries to reason with the kid.

Peter sniffs and slowly extends his hand toward Tony, letting the man examine the damage. Nothing is bleeding, but the skin was extremely dark and bruised, and Tony wasn’t sure whether he should put a bandage or something over it. Given the kid’s healing factor, the marks will go away soon no matter what, so it may be pointless.

“Are they bothering you? Are they itchy?” Tony asks the boy, trying to figure out if the scratching was coming from physical or phantom reactions.

Peter shakes his head and curls up on the couch, around his bottle of milk. “Stab Peter,” he mumbles, mimicking the action of his wrists slicing open.

“I know,” Tony says, placing a hand on Peter’s head, smoothing down his curls. “They hurt you, and they shouldn’t have.”

Peter nods. When Tony is sure that he is not going to say anything, he continues. “Did you have a dream about them hurting your wrists?”

The boy nods again, explaining the damage he has done to his wrists.

“M’sorry, ‘Nee,” Peter mumbles around his cup, eyes focusing on the coffee table in front of them.

“For what, bud?”

The boy sniffs, looking up through his tear filled lashes up at Tony. “Spider tried, so so hard, ‘Nee. No do it.”

“Couldn’t do what, buddy?” Tony asks, trying to figure out what the kid was talking about.

Peter’s eyebrows suddenly furrow, as he he were unsure exactly what is was that he were talking about. Still, after a minute of thinking, the kid attempts to give an answer.

“…Wanted Spider to… be more spider… be like spider…,” he trails off, more tears gathering in his eyes as he fumbles over his words. When Peter is uncomfortable, scared, or tired, he tends to mix up his words more than when he isn’t. The kid is still learning, and he is so smart, it seems to bother him when he cannot find the right words. Tony, however, is able to take the fumbling and figure out what the kid is trying to say.

“They wanted you to be able to make spider webs,” Tony nods, still carding his fingers through Peter’s hair.

Peter sniffs and nods his head at the man. “No do it,” he repeats. “M’sorry.”

“Peter,” Tony starts, heart clenching at the words. “That wasn’t your fault, buddy. They had no right to do that to you.”

“Tried, ‘Nee.”

“I know, buddy. I know,” Tony says, unsure what to do in this situation, because when Peter becomes insistent about how he “let HYDRA down”, or whatever it is, it is hard to change the kid’s mind. Tony usually distracts the boy from it, and lets Grace deal with the bigger stuff later on.

They end up sitting on the couch in silence, Peter finishing his milk and curling into the couch with a yawn. Tony sits beside him, letting the boy decide if he wants to sleep alone on the couch, or with Tony. Peter fumbles around on the couch, and is still and silent for long enough that Tony believes he has fallen asleep. After about five minutes, however, Peter uncurls and crawls over to Tony’s side of the couch, lays there, head just brushing Tony’s leg.

Knowing Peter wants him to stay with him for the duration of the night, Tony gets into a position that is more comfortable, and won’t kill him in the morning. Once he is comfortable, Tony feels a small tug on his shirt, and looks down at the boy. Peter’s eyes are not looking at him, as if embarrassed, though his small fingers remain curled in the fabric.

“Yeah, I know what you want, kid,” Tony mumbles, already half asleep, clumsily pulling off his shirt to give the kid visible access to the light of the arc reactor.

He looks down, and Peter is falling asleep just as fast as he is, eyes trained on the blue light, head now pillowed on the man’s thigh, a thumb planted directly in his mouth.

As Tony falls asleep, he thinks about what tomorrow has in store for them. May and Ben Parker have accepted his offer and are coming to meet Peter in the morning. After tonight’s nightmare, Tony isn’t sure how accepting of strangers Peter will be, though Grace, Bruce, and himself have all discussed them with Peter.

Peter has no memory of his father, from what they can tell. Overtime they bring the topic of his parents, Peter gets confused. The only trace of recollection of them is of his mother, and even then he only offers his sloth, mumbling “Mama.”

All they have told Peter about Ben and May was that they knew him before he was taken by HYDRA. Peter, who has been made aware but still remains very confused about the fact that there was ever a time he was _not_ with HYDRA, for he cannot remember it, hadn’t had a negative nor positive reaction when hearing about them. They have informed the kid that Ben and May had loved him very much, and were very sad when he was taken, so they may react “weirdly,” as Tony put it, when they see him.

The only thing they can do is wait and hope for the best. For all parties, Tony hopes it goes well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter will soon meet his aunt and uncle, and we are sooo close to finding out what happened to my poor little boy at HYDRA!! 
> 
> So sorry for the short chapter and the long wait, will try to get some up ASAP!!! 
> 
> Im gunna go take a nap now, please comment or give feedback!!! 
> 
> Here's my shitty tumblr LOL http://marveal.tumblr.com


	14. sometimes parents make mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm back! This has been the longest gap between chapters and i'm so very sorry! School started and I went through a spiral of overwhelming existential dread. But!!! I'm back!!! and i have a boring class that is so very boring that i spend all 3 hours of it writing this fic! 
> 
> i had an anon on tumblr ask me if i abandoned this. it's been that long. i'm sorry anon. i'm back. 
> 
> TW: sexual abuse of a child is mentioned and discussed in this chapter.

Tony awakens to the sound of the a high pitched squeal, following the thud of a tiny body hitting the ground from a high distance. He shoots up from the couch, and long behold, Peter has escaped his arms and climbed onto the ceiling. He must have lost his footing and fallen to the ground.

 

“You okay, buddy?” Tony asks, hesitating to approach the kid. He watches as Peter looks up from his hunched figure of the ground, looking around confusedly. The boy stares up at the ceiling, and then at his feet, and once again at the ceiling, as if they had betrayed him.

 

Tony is waiting for a childlike outburst of pain, or hidden tears the boy feels he has to hide from the man, but instead, Peter simply crawls back over to the corner of the room and begins to scale the walls back to the ceiling.

 

“What are you doing up there, Pete?”

 

“Peter no falls,” the boy responds, climbing at a quicker speed.

 

“Did you get hurt?” He asks, trying his best to examine the small body on the ceiling for injuries.

 

“Peter strong,” the boy mumbles as he stops dead on the ceiling, shifts position, and begins to fall to the floor.

 

“Hey!” Tony shouts, trying to get underneath the boy to catch him, but Peter lands before he can get there in time, bringing his fist down to the carpet, knees bent in a position worthy of Cap, and he squeals.

 

“Peter four!” the boy shouts, jumping up and turning as if to repeat his earlier jump, only stopping when Tony grabs the boy’s arm to stop him.

 

Which, Tony admits, may have not been the best way to act around an abused child.

 

Peter lets out a small, nearly inaudible gasp, before freezing in his tracks, He does not turn towards Tony, does not move an inch, besides making his body as pliant as possible. Tony, who still has his hand wrapped around the boy’s wrist, feels the kid’s heartbeat quicken.

 

“Hey,” Tony says, moving his hand away and kneeling before the child. “I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have grabbed your arm like that.”

 

Peter’s eyes stare at Tony, seeing him as somebody else. A look Tony has not seen directed at him since the day he found Peter in his cell all those months ago. When Tony meets his eyes, the widened brown orbs hastily drop to the ground, emitting the perfect obedience.

 

“You don’t need to do that, buddy. I’m so sorry. I don’t want you doing that, okay?” He thinks about what Grace has told him to do when Peter loses himself in a memory, so he tries what he can remember.

 

Firstly, he grabs Mary the Sloth from her abandoned spot on the couch, hands her to Peter, waiting for the boy to close his little fingers around the plush, before starting to speak to him.

 

“Okay Peter, I know it’s scary, and you think you’re with them right now, but you aren’t. You are with Tony, in the living room, and you are holding Mary. You feel Mary? I bet she’d really like a hug from her favourite boy right about now. What do you say?”

 

Peter hesitates, but slowly, oh so slowly, he looks up from the ground towards his sloth. He brings the hand not currently holding his plush to stroke her fur, slowly, hesitantly, waiting for her to be ripped away, but Tony keeps reassuring the boy, keeping his hands to himself as Peter comes back to himself.

 

“‘Nee,” Peter mumbles after what feels like an hour.

 

“Yeah,” Tony mumbles back, just as quietly, “It’s ‘Nee.”

 

“Peter s-sorry, ‘Nee,” the boy stutters out, lip trembling to warn of likely tears

 

“No, no, buddy, you don’t have to be sorry for anything, I just didn’t want you to get hurt jumping down from the ceiling like that,” Tony explains, hoping his tone is soothing enough for the boy to believe him.

 

“Peter four,” he repeats his statement from before, this time in a quiet, passive manner, as if Tony had ripped all of the joy out of the boy’s day.

 

“I don’t understand what you mean, bud,” Tony replies. “You’re six, not four.”

 

Peter tilts his head at the man in confusion. “No, ‘Nee. _Four.”_

 

“You think you’re four?” Tony says back, getting more and more confused at every word.

 

“ _Four,”_ Peter repeats, this time making a fist and swinging it back and forth. “Peter was four!”

 

 _Oh my god,_ Tony thinks, linking the boy’s statement and movements, to his speech impediment.

 

“ _Thor!”_ Tony exclaims, finally understanding what the boy had been saying.

 

“Four!” Peter repeats, glad that Tony has finally understood what he had _obviously_ been saying.

 

“You were trying to be Thor,” Tony smiles, still kneeling down by the boy, and slowly takes both of Peter’s little hands in his own.

 

Peter looks down at their joint hands, then back up at Tony. “No bad?”

 

“No bad. You're a very good boy, Peter. I just didn’t want you to get hurt. Thor is a lot bigger than you. How about we wait until you’re bigger to start jumping off ceilings?” Tony says, making sure to maintain eye contact with the boy.

 

“Okay, ‘Nee,” Peter says, moving his hands out of Tony’s grasp to walk to the couch with Mary the Sloth.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

After putting some food into Peter, dressing him, and giving him one last warning about his guests that should be here very soon, Tony finds himself sitting on the floor, assembling a puzzle that, when finished, should look like Cap’s shield. Peter is more interested in sorting the red, blue, and white pieces into their own respective coloured pile than he is assembling the puzzle, so all Tony has is the outside ring of the shield.

 

Before Tony can convince the boy to give up some of his red pieces, JARVIS speaks up, interrupting his thoughts.

 

“Sir, Ben and May Parker are downstairs, accompanied by Dr. Banner,requesting access to this floor.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, let them up, J,” Tony says, watching as Peter lifts his head to listen to JARVIS, then dropping his head to make his piles into perfectly shaped squares.

 

“Hey, Pete,” Tony says, waiting for the brown curls to pop up from their drooped position over the blue puzzle pieces, and brown eyes to lock with Tony’s, before continuing. “Remember what we talked about?” Waiting for Peter’s nod, he continues. “Ben and May knew you before you were with the bad men. They knew your mother.”

 

“Mama,” Peter replies, smiling at the mention of his favourite woman.

 

“Yeah, your mama. You probably don’t remember them, but they remember you, and they missed you so, so much while you were gone, so they will be very happy to see you, so happy that they may cry, they may want to hug you, but if you feel uncomfortable, you just tell me, okay? They don’t want Peter feeling bad.”

 

“No bad,” Peter nods.

 

Before Tony can answer, the elevator doors swinging open cut into his next sentence, and suddenly a small but clear gasp is cut through the room.

 

“Peter,” May says, her and her husband frozen in their spots in the elevator, staring at the young boy on the ground.

 

Peter warily stares at the two people, taking in their appearances, looking for threats, for anything that could harm him, as he does with everyone he has just met.

 

Bruce steps out of the elevator, a gentle hand on both of the Parker’s backs, gently guiding them into the room. Seeing the doctor, Peter visibly relaxes, Grace had informed them that a safe way to introduce Peter to the Parker’s would be by having him around people he trusts, and have May and Ben interact with them. This would show to Peter that there is no threat, and that the people he trusts, trusts the Parkers, and therefore he would be able to as well.

 

“Hi, Peter,” Bruce smiles at the boy, walking over to him to tap a finger over the child’s nose, an affectionate gesture the two have recently begun doing with each other.

 

“Hi,” Peter mumbles, not looking away from the strangers in the doorway.

 

“C’mon, you can come a little closer, nobody here bites much,” Tony says, disliking the silence that has taken over the room.

 

“Tony,” Bruce begins to reprimand the man, before a loud sniffle is heard, and the two begin to walk over.

 

They stop a good distance away from the boy, dropping to their knees so they are closer to his height on the floor.

 

“Hey,” Ben says, voice thick with tears. He coughs to clear his throat before continuing. “Hey, champ. I’m Ben, this is my wife, May.”

 

“Hi,” Peter mumbles. He looks down at his pile of puzzle pieces and looks as if he is going to begin to sort them again, when a giant sob startles him back into looking at his aunt.

 

May is staring at the boy, hand over her mouth as if to try and muffle her sobs, her other hand clutching Ben’s as if it were her lifeline.

 

Peter, always such a sweet boy, crawls the distance from his puzzle to the stranger. He stops right in front of her, and reaches out to wipe away one of her many tears from her face.

 

“No cry,” he says, staring into her eyes. Suddenly, he glances over to Bruce, his favourite tutor, and looks back, repeating the same gesture, wiping more tears and saying, “No cry _ing,”_

 

 _“Oh,”_ May says, eyes wide as she stares at the child, “Oh, I’m sorry baby, I’m just so happy to see you.”

 

Peter tilts his head, his silent way of asking _why,_ though Ben and May have not yet learned Peter’s silent mannerisms, so they do not answer. Peter, sensing they will not answer, looks to Tony for help.

 

“I told you, bud. They knew you before the bad men and they missed you,” Tony answers the boy, prompting May to continue his explanation.

 

“We missed you more than anything, baby,” May says. “So, so much.”

 

“But… but cry,” Peter says, pointing to the tears running down her face, obviously confused why a happy person would be crying so much.

 

“We never thought we would see you again, my sweet boy,” May says, reaching out to place a gentle hand in his curls.

 

“…Good cry?” Peter asks.

 

“So, _so good,_ baby,” May cries.

 

Peter looks towards Ben, who himself is desperately trying to hold back tears. He gives the man a pointed look, reminding him of the exact conversation he just had with May. The man smiles, slowly extending his hand to the boy, similar to how one would approach a wounded animal, yet Peter still loosely wraps his small hand around the man’s.

 

Ben lets out a small, relieved sigh, as if touching the boy had finally proven to the man that his boy is back. The positioning of their hands, however, give both May and Ben a clear visual of the scars that litter the boy’s wrists. Ben lightly trails a thumb up and down the boy’s wrists, a comfort more to himself than to the boy, and continues to smile at his young nephew.

 

The boy stands from his kneeling position in front of the two, hand still wrapped around Ben’s, and drags the man to his puzzle. He sits back down on the ground, his uncle dropping behind him, and hands Ben the pile of white pieces.

 

“Pussle,” the boy says.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

A few hours later, May is sitting in the corner of the living room with Peter, reading him a book, while Tony and Ben observe from behind the kitchen island.

 

“How is he doing, really?” Ben asks.

 

“He’s as okay as one could be, after what he went through,” Tony says.

 

“Does he, still, you know… try to…?” The man tries to stutter out, reminding Tony of their many conversations of how Peter acted when he first arrived at the tower.

 

‘Not for awhile, no,” Tony answers. “He still doesn’t understand that what they did to him was completely _wrong.”_

 

 _“_ What does he think? That they did their best in caring for him?”

 

“We’re not sure what he thinks. His therapist, Grace, tells us that children often try to validate their situations, to cope with what is going on, Tony tries to explain. “If Peter believed he deserved it or it was normal, it was easier for him to go along with everything.”

 

Ben sighs. “So being here, in a safe environment, hasn’t changed that?”

 

“No,” Tony shakes his head. “It definitely has. When we first found him, he… he was afraid of everything. He thought we were going to hurt him all the time… he barely knew how to eat, they only gave him fluids…”

 

Ben looks over to where May and Peter are huddled together in the corner, a longing look on his face, as if longing for the days they missed out on when they assumed the boy to be dead. “What about the… the sexual assault? Does that affect him?”

 

“Of course it does,” Tony replies, deciding not to lie to the man. “For awhile he assumed, that since we were treating him kindly… that we wanted… _that,_ from him.”

 

Ben inhaled sharply. “He linked kindness with sexual desire?”

 

Tony nodded, eyes downcast. “He’s stopped thinking that, I think, but there was a time he was always attempting to… touch… someone who was kind to him.”

 

“You said… he doesn’t understand that what they did to him was _wrong,”_ Ben says, silently asking for clarification.

 

“That includes _that_ aspect, yes,” Tony explains. “It’s hard to figure out with Peter… he seems to think they were hurting him because he deserved it, because he was different. Yet, he is still so afraid of them that we can’t even say ‘Hydra’ around him, we just call them the ‘bad men’.”

 

“So he’s afraid of them,” Ben clarifies. “That’s… _God,_ it sounds bad to say… but, that’s good, right? That he didn’t… fall in love with them? What’s that called when you fall in love with the people who hurt you?”

 

“Stockholm syndrome?” Tony asks. When Ben nods, snapping his fingers to show that is what he had been thinking," Tony answers him. “That’s something that has definitely been brought up with his therapist. She thinks it’s unlikely Peter likes the agents and scientists that worked with him. They had likely told him that it’s what he deserved, being a ‘mutant’.”

 

“Made him think he deserved to be tortured on,” Ben shakes his head. “But the sexual abuse? You said…,”

 

“There was only one man, as far as we can tell. Called himself ‘Bubba’. Peter… Peter doesn’t want to believe that Bubba hurt him,” Tony explains, carefully examining Ben’s face to make sure the man is understanding. “He was kind to Peter, told him he loved him… it would crush a child to think that the only person who was kind to you for four years was a bad person.”

 

“So… my six year old nephew is in love with his dead rapist?” Ben says, tears filling his eyes.

 

“In love, I’m not too sure. There is, however, a very pleasant look towards him, much more so than the other agents,” he replies. “We’re working on a way to make him realize how bad he truly was to him, in a way that won’t set him off in the opposite direction of recovery.”

 

“One step forward is two more backwards,” Ben mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Does Peter know? That the bastard’s dead?”

 

“ _No,”_ Tony firmly says. “He cannot know, not until we can have him in a mindset that isn’t so loyal and caring towards the man.”

 

“So where does Peter think he is?” Ben asks.

 

“I don’t know. We just sort of… avoid talking about him, if we can. When we bring him up, the kid just gets excited… we can’t tell him yet.” Tony sternly says.

 

“And the therapist, this Dr Sandwell… she agrees with this?” Ben asks.

 

“She enforced the rule,” Tony explains.

 

Suddenly, squeal comes from the corner, similar to the one that had woken Tony up that morning, and both men look toward the noise. Peter is excitedly pointing to a picture in the book May had been reading to him, bounding up and down.

 

“Mary!” Peter exclaims.

 

May looks up from the book, giving Tony a panicked glance, unsure how to go about Peter’s happy outburst.

 

“What is it, bud?” Tony asks from his spot in the kitchen.

 

“Mary in book!” Peter says, taking the book from May’s hands and trotting over to the men. Climbing onto the kitchen island by sticking to the table makes Ben’s eyes comically widen in their sockets, but it does not phase Tony nor Peter. Sitting on the table and turning the book over for them to see, Peter points to an illustrated sloth in the book.

 

“Wow, bud, Mary’s just getting around, isn’t she? She’s made it all the way into the…,” Tony pauses, reading the book to see where the setting was. “The submarine in the middle of the ocean! She’s exploring the sea!”

 

Peter nods excitedly, still bouncing, legs folded behind him.

 

“Who’s Mary, Pete?” Ben asks, smiling at the boy.

 

Peter lets out a small gasp, realizing that his sloth is not on his person, forgotten in his haste to play with his aunt. He scrambles off the counter, and with more or less panic coming from both Tony and Ben, he smoothly lands on the ground, scrambling to the couch, where Mary lays. He grabs the plush before running back to his uncle, squeezing the toy, allowing it to emit that god awful sound, and showing it off to Ben.

 

“Mary,” Peter says, introducing her to the man.

 

“You named her Mary?” Ben asks, tears once again filling his eyes.

 

Peter nods, smiling up at the only remaining member of his bloodline. “Mama.”

 

Ben looks toward May, who has gotten up from her spot on the floor, but is watching from a distance, who also recognizes the significance of the name, and puts her hand over her mouth. Ben then looks at Tony, who cannot do anything but give a barely noticeable shrug, telling the man there was nothing he could have done to prevent the kid from naming his sloth.

 

Ben crouches down to Peter’s height, gently ruffles the boy’s curls with one hand, placing the other over Mary’s ugly little head, before softly chuckling.

 

“Yeah, Pete. Just like your Mama.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben and May love their nephew and respect everything Tony is doing for their boy. 
> 
> There is an end in sights of this fic, as well, which leads me to another question. 
> 
> Iffffff, I decide to make this a series, with little snippet stories of Peter's life growing up, how he deals at school, with his eventual becoming spiderman, would you be interested? 
> 
> Please, please, PLEASE leave comments, ideas, suggestions, anything! They are my motivator! Let me know if you think the snippet is a stupid idea! 
> 
> Next chapter coming soon I promise no more long waits ok i love you until next time, check out my tumblr and tell me how shit my posts are  
> http://marveal.tumblr.com


	15. next stop rock bottom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Hi! I'm back! and it's only been like 6 days! not a month! and guess what! this is my longest chapter yet! and this is the longest chapter yet!!!
> 
> warnings for this chapter: paIN

There were three key factors that played a role in all hell breaking loose. Three completely separate factors that all tied together so perfectly you may have well assumed it had been planned.

 

A well thought out, heart wrenching plan that would cause even the heartless to feel sorrow. Something that had been warned of from the beginning, though nobody wanted to believe it would ever come.

 

Xavier had warned him that this would happen. That there would come a time where everything Peter had been repressing about his time with HYDRA, his emotions, his memories, everything, will come flooding back to him. There is always a cliff dive of a fall before one can start climbing back up. This was bound to have shown up eventually.

 

Tony wished it never had.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

“I’m not going.”

 

“Tony, please, we need as many hands as we can, and having air support would really help,” Steve replies over the phone.

 

It is much too early to be having this conversation. Four hours earlier than Steve, Natasha, and Clint’s location, it is only five in the morning in New York. Too early to be having a conversation about Iron Man coming last minute to a highly planned HYDRA infiltration.

 

“You have a literal god of thunder,” Tony points out. Thor had been notified before Tony himself, and after saying a sentimental goodbye to Peter, he had made his way to his team.

 

The young boy, who had not slept very well the last night, was curled into himself on the couch, watching cartoons while Tony tried not to doze off beside him. He had been dozing off himself, finally giving in to the desperate prying of sleep, when the blond man had quietly entered the room. He perked up, first in fear of another figure entering the room when he was so unguarded, but it soon turned to joy when he saw it was his favourite playmate. Tony watches the encounter with half-closed lids, consciousness slipping from his grasp.

 

Thor knelt by the boy’s side of the couch, placing a gentle hand on the side of Peter’s face.

 

“I must leave, young Peter,” Thor whispers, stroking a thumb along Peter’s cheek.

 

Peter’s face twisted in concern and fear. He had watched Steve, Natasha, and Clint leave many times before, but never his playmate, who is always there when Peter wants him. Words always seemed to come to the boy the hardest at times when he is tired, so Tony watches as Peter stumbles over his sentences, barely able to get the words out.

 

“W-w-where go?” Peter softly says, so quiet you could easily miss them. Thor continues to stroke his thumb over the boy’s cheek, smiling to silently reassure the boy of his subconscious fears.

 

“I am not leaving you forever, Peter. I must go help my brothers in arms, the Avengers, in our latest quest. I shall be home before you know it, with stories to tell my favourite boy,” he claims, pointer finger shooting out to tap the child’s nose.

 

Peter giggles softly before his face becomes somber. “Back soon?”

 

“As quick as the sun begins to shine after a storm passes, my dear friend,” Thor claims, planting a small kiss on the child’s head.

 

“Peter come too?” The boy asks, his thumb sneaking into his mouth, shyly hiding half of his face from the man.

 

“Ah, young Peter, but who would keep our man of iron company? You are needed here!” Thor says.

 

Peter looks up at Tony, who’s head has long ago drooped onto the top of the couch. When he catches the slits of his tired caretaker, Peter’s eyes grow wide, as if the thought of leaving Tony hurt him. The boy grabs Tony’s hand, clinging onto him while he turns back to Thor.

 

“Four safe?” Peter asks, hand tightening slightly in Tony’s.

 

“I will be be as safe as a child in his mother’s arms, and will be back to finish our puzzle soon. For now, I bid you goodbye, my friend.” Thor plants one last kiss over Peter’s curls, before standing up, gripping Tony’s shoulder in a greeting, and leaving the room.

 

That was two hours ago.

 

Flash forward to the present, and Tony himself is being asked, if not ordered, to come join the team on their endeavour.

 

“I haven't left Peter for more than a day before,” Tony whispers into the speaker, hoping he is quiet enough to catch the attention of the boy across the room, who seems to be very occupied by drawing, if you consider covering pages upon pages of little red hearts drawing.

 

“You can’t keep doing this forever, Tony,” Steve says. “Sooner or later you’ll have to leave Peter for a while in order to do your job.”

 

“And that has to be now?” Tony demands.

 

“Tony, please,” Steve practically begs. “I wouldn’t ask if this wasn't important. We have reason to believe this base is home to every major HYDRA project. Where the agents, the doctors, _the people who hurt Peter,_ everyone, will be. We can take them down, Tony.”

 

Tony hesitates. “How sure are you that this is it?”

 

“Ninety-four percent. If not everyone, there will definitely be people who know more about Peter than the last people did. We need all hands on deck.”

 

“Does Bruce count as ‘all hands on deck?” Tony asks, determined that if he goes on this mission, Peter will at least have someone to look after him, to know he hasn’t been abandoned.

 

“Bruce is staying behind,: Steve informs him. “I’ve already talked to him. He’s more than willing to watch Peter while you’re gone.” There was a long moment of silence that fell upon the two.

 

Tony knew that he had to go; if not because it was his responsibility as an Avenger, because he owes it to Peter to take down the people who hurt him. Despite this knowledge, it hurt the man no less to think about leaving Peter, even if only for a few days. He has yet to be apart from Peter for very long, and nobody is quite sure the way the boy will react to being away from him. Grace has voiced her concerns many times about her worries that Peter has become to dependant of Tony. Tony, of course, shoots back that every child is dependent on their caretaker, though eve he is aware that Peter’s clinginess is that of a tortured child whom is terrified of abandonment, rather than a child with separation anxiety from his mother.

 

 

“Yeah,” Tony breaks the silence. “I’ll go. Give me two hours and I’ll be on my way.”

 

“Thank you, Tony,” Steve says gratefully. He feels just as closely to this situation as Tony does. If they have information on Peter, it is likely they will also have information on the Winter Soldier. If they get this information, it may give Steve a new lead on where to look for his long lost friend. Steve, while caring a great deal about Peter, will always be involved in this situation for Bucky.

 

“We will inform you on the plan when you get here,” Steve says before hanging up the phone.

 

Tony sighs, hanging up the phone on his end, and looks toward Peter.

 

Peter must have sensed Tony looking at him, for the minute the man glances over his little head shoots up from his drawings. He gives the man a small grin, collects his mountain of papers, and toddles over to Tony.

 

“Look, ‘Nee,” Peter says, shoving the papers in Tony’s direction. Tony takes the papers from the boy and skims through the papers, examining the collage of hearts on every page.

 

“Wow, bud, look at all these hearts! They’re beautiful!” Tony says, ruffling the kid’s hair. Peter’s grin grows wider, pleased at the praise the man just gave him.

 

Sighing once again, Tony slumps onto the couch, extending his hand to offer Peter a spot beside him. Tilting his head in confusion, Peter takes Tony’s hand and follows him into the couch, sitting beside him on his knees and staring hesitantly up at the man.

 

“Peter be bad?” The boy asks, assuming Tony’s solemn face has something to do with his own actions.

 

“No, buddy, it’s not you,” Tony replies, placing his hands out to cup the boy’s face. Peter’s eyes widen slightly at the touch, still staring at Tony, waiting for him to tell him what is wrong.

 

“Remember when Thor left this morning? How he promised to you he would come back?” Tony asks. Before he can even finish his sentence, tears begin to fill the young boy’s eyes, threatening to spill over as his bottom lip begins to tremble.

 

“N…N…’Nee go too?” Peter mumbles, placing one hand over Tony’s to keep it pressed against his cheek.

 

Sometimes, Tony forgets how intelligent this boy is. How, despite his stunted growth and learning, he is still so bright and intuitive, able to grasp what is going on before it is even told to him. It makes breaking the news to the boy both easier and harder.

 

“I have to go with Thor, buddy.”

 

“Peter come?” The request is so soft that Tony has to strain in order to hear the boy.

 

“You can’t come, buddy. It’s much too dangerous for you. Bruce will stay with you, and I will be back befo,”-

 

“No! Spider fights! Spider fights with ‘Nee!” Peter demands, tears finally starting to fall from his eyes.

 

“HYDRA taught you how to fight?” Tony asks before shaking his head. This is not the time to be discussing Peter’s fighting abilities. “It doesn’t matter, buddy. You can’t come. I wish I didn’t have to go. If it wasn’t important, I would stay here with you. I promise, when I get back we can spend the whole day on the couch watching The Storybots.”

 

“No!” Peter lets out a high pitched wail, louder than his voice has ever gotten. He clutches onto Tony’s arm, tugging it slightly. “‘Nee no leave Spider! No, no, no, ‘Nee stays and Spider will be good! So good, pwomise pwomise, Spider good boy, Spider will,” he cuts himself off and goes still. At first Tony assumes Peter realizes that he has been yelling, and is afraid of punishment. However, it seems the boy is simply at a loss at what to do. He removes his hand from Tony’s arm, eyes flitting to and away from Tony’s crotch, as if pondering if that is what Tony finally wants from him. The endless amounts of discussions had with the boy, however, seem to have seeped into his brain, as he does not make any kind of move toward Tony. Instead, his entire little body slumps against the couch, hands rubbing at his eyes.

 

“Peter go too,” he mumbles, not a question this time, but rather a stubborn, childish suggestion. Tony, knowing fully well that Peter would never be allowed on this mission, by the team and Tony himself, feels the urge to bring the child along. It is so rare that Peter does something that is so common of a regular child, that when he does it fills Tony’s heart.

 

“Bruce will be here with you, buddy,” Tony claims. “I can call him right now, he can be down with you in a second.”

 

“Want ‘Nee,” Peter mumbles, hands covering his eyes as he rubs at them.

 

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon, okay? How did Thor say it? ‘As soon as the sun comes back up after its dark,’ or whatever. Before you know it.” He places a hand in Peter’s curls, letting his hand simply rest among them.

 

Soon, Bruce comes down and greets a snotty nosed Peter, and his friend who will forever deny that his eyes were red because of tears, it is allergy season is all.

 

If he spends his last hour before departing with his arms wrapped around the kid, well, nobody has to know.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Tony has been reunited with the team for about twenty six hours, and they have no plans of swarming the base any time soon.

 

Tony, for lack of a better word, and being teased by the whole team since he arrived about, is suffering from parental separation anxiety.

 

He has called Bruce nearly every hour, looking for an update on his kid, yet everything seemed to be going smoothly. The first ten hours or so were hard on Peter; he spent a lot of it curled on the couch with Mary, Bruce claimed, having one of his silent conversations with her. He refused to eat, which was worrying to Tony, but not as much as you would think. Peter knows what it is like to starve. He’ll eat when he gets hungry enough, especially because Bruce will offer him food quite often, knowing the boy does not ask himself.

 

He speaks to Peter every few hours, as well, except when the boy is asleep. He tells him that he misses him, that he will be home soon, that he has nothing to worry about. Tony is safe, so is the rest of the team. That seems to calm the boy down a bit.

 

He has just gotten off the phone with Bruce. Peter, shockingly, slept through the night without any obvious nightmares. _Nothing scary enough to be caught by JARVIS,_ Tony thinks, _but perhaps a smaller one, one that he was able to sleep through and didn’t have you to help him through it. He could have woken up and you wouldn’t have been there for him, what if he stops trusting you, that all of the trust you’ve built up stopped working, all because you were an idiot and-_

 

“Stark.”

 

“Yeah?” Tony’s head shoots up from where it had been resting on the table in front of him.

“You know the plan, correct?” Natasha says from her spot across from her, obviously repeating what Steve had asked him whilst he was daydreaming.

 

“Of course I do, unlike some people,” he says with a pointed look at Clint, “I am able to process information the first time around. I’m just waiting for the show to begin.”

 

“Well, since you decided to think about Peter _again,”_ Clint says sarcastically, “Captain Rogers has to go over the plan _once again.”_

 

“I know the plan!” Tony insists.

 

“We want to collectively understand the plan, Tony,” Steve explains. “We want everything to run as smoothly as possible.”

 

Not bothering to respond, Tony plops his head down on the table, eyes remaining on the Captain. He waves his hand in a gesture for Steve to get on with his explanation.

 

The plan, as always, was simple and generally the exact same as it is all of the time. The Avengers are to split up, cover every entrance of the building, two of them, Clint and Thor, covering the outside this time for any escapees, while the remaining three, Tony, Steve, and Natasha, search the inside. They are going as a team this time, as there has been suspicion that many agents will be residing collectively in one or two rooms, rather than scattered around the base.

 

When Steve finishes his speech once again, as if nobody in the room was unable to grasp it the first time, Tony pounds his fist against the table.

 

“So, are we doing this baby, or what?” He says, rising from his chair.

 

Soon after, the team are all in position, having gained access to the base with little resistance, par usual for HYDRA’s shitty technicians. Just before they are about to enter the first room, where JARVIS has scanned several heat detections, JARVIS interrupts.

 

“Sir, Dr. Banner is attempting to contact you,” the AI claims.

 

Tony freezes in his tracks. This is the first time since he left where _Bruce_ tried to contact _him._ It was usually the other way around.

 

Tony is just about to answer the call when Steve pipes up, having heard JARVIS through the com.

 

“Is it crucial, JARVIS?”

 

“According the footage that I am currently receiving from Stark Tower, it appears that Peter is in extreme distress.”

 

“Answer it, JARVIS,” Tony says. “You guys go in. I’ll be right behind you. This is the only entrance to this room, I’ll make sure nobody gets out.”

 

‘Stark,”-

 

“No,” Tony cuts them off. “Go in. I’m answering the call.”

 

Knowing that it would be pointless to argue with Tony about an issue revolving Peter, Natasha and Steve nodded and swiftly broke the door to the conjoining room down. All too soon, shouts and gunshots where heard, and Tony kept his eyes locked for any agents trying to escape as he answered the call.

 

“Bruce, what’s going on?”

 

He barely had a chance to get the words out before he can hear the screaming. In the background of Bruce’s call, Peter’s voice is screaming as loud as he possibly can, so much louder than Tony has ever heard his usually soft voice go.

 

“Tony! I’m so sorry, I know you’re on your mission, but… I don’t know what to do, Tony,” Bruce says, sounding extremely overwhelmed.

 

“What happened, Bruce?” Tony demands. Between cries and sobs, Tony can hear Peter saying words such as “gone,” and “mama,” sounding more distressed at every word.

 

“I’m not sure! He was playing with his sloth, talking to her like he always does!” Bruce states. “I turned my back for a minute to make him something that he would be able to eat, and then he’s screaming like that.”

 

Tony thinks that it is very unlikely that there was nothing happening that triggered the tantrum. Peter doesn’t throw fits, he’s an obedient child, too obedient, there was simply nothing Tony could think of that would trigger this reaction.

 

Listening to the boy in the background of the phone static, absorbing the words that the boy is saying, along with Bruce’s story, there is only one thing that Tony can even imagine this is about.

 

Mary.

 

“Did something happen to the toy?” Tony asks.

 

“He has it in his hands, Tony. He’s clinging onto it for dear life, but it doesn’t look ripped or anything,” Bruce claims. “One minute he was playing with it and the next he was upset like this.” Just like Tony’s insides, Bruce seems to be getting more and more panicked as the time goes by.

 

“Put him on the phone,” Tony demands.

 

“Tony, I don’t think he’ll be able to hold the phone,” Bruce says cautiously.

 

“Then put it on speaker, I don’t care! Just let me talk to him!”

 

There is a small sigh, then some rustling, and Peter’s screams got louder to Tony’s ears as Bruce got closer and put the phone on speaker.

 

“Hey Peter, do you want to talk to Tony? He’s on the phone right now,” Bruce tenderly states.

 

“Hey bud,” Tony says, showing that he is there to the kid.

 

All that he gets in return is a wail. Peter doesn’t seem to notice nor care that Tony is on the phone, from the lack of response the man is getting.

 

“Can you tell me what happened, baby? What happened to Mary?” Tony asks, taking a shot that the toy, or it’s namesake, is the reason behind this fit.

 

“Mama gone!” Peter cries, sobbing coming closer to the microphone, as if Peter picked up the phone and brought it closer to himself. That’s a good sign.

 

“What do you mean, ‘she’s gone?’” Tony gently asks.

 

“Gone!” Peter repeats. There is more rustling on the other side of the phone before Tony hears Bruce make a noise of understanding.

 

“The soundbox broke in the sloth, Tony,” Bruce explains. “She isn’t making any noises.”

 

Oh. _Oh._

 

Tony will never forget the conversation he had with Grace weeks ago, about how worried she was about the symbolism of that toy, of the name Peter granted her. She saw the toy as Peter’s way of giving his mother a voice, a physical presence, though small and inanimate, something he is able to cuddle and love. Losing his mother the way he did, unable to understand fully where she went, why she left him with HYDRA, it was likely he used the sloth as a way to bring his mother back to him.

 

Then the lost the ability to make noise. Peter has lost her once again.

 

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Tony tries to reassure the child. “Bruce can take you up to the lab right now, he can fix Mary, make her speak again.”

 

“Mama gone,” Peter sobs, though quieter, displaying his understanding of Tony’s words.

 

“Bruce will bring Mary’s voice back, buddy, I promise.” Before he is able to say anything else, a man runs through the door that Steve and Natasha had entered. Tony quickly is able to take the man down, staring down into his face. He is about to go back to the phone call, when several more men run towards the door. They must have sent for reinforcements.

 

“Shit,” Tony curses. “I have to go. It’ll all be fine, okay buddy? Bruce will get Mary fixed right up. I’ll be back so soon, and when I do, I’ll be able to hear Mary’s beautiful sloth groans.”

 

“Do you want to say goodbye to Tony, Peter?” Bruce calm suggests. There is no response besides a few sobs and sniffles, so Bruce sighs and bids his own good luck and farewells before hanging up the phone.

 

God, Tony wishes he hadn’t come.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

For the size of the building, and the amount of HYDRA agents that were in the building, it really should have been more difficult to take them down then it was. Tony thinks it is simply getting more pathetic every time.

 

After rejoining the fight, Tony quickly was able to take down the reinforcements that HYDRA had sent in from another room. He turned his com back on to announce his presence to Natasha and Steve, and soon the three were securing the base.

 

SHIELD had informed them to have as little casualties as possible. The more agents they have to interrogate, the more information they are not only able to get, but determine to be true, in case some smart ass agents decide to give false information.

 

The agents they have captured are currently sitting quietly in their own SHIELD cells, being monitored while the Avengers discuss where to go with their situation.

 

“It’ll be hard to get them to talk,” Steve says, eyes observing one agent through the one-way glass.

 

“They always speak eventually,” Natasha says nonchalantly.

 

“Why are we starting with this guy, anyway?” Tony asks. “His cell is in the middle, why didn’t we start one way and work from there?”

 

He doesn’t plan on being here very long. The minute SHIELD accepts his debrief and gives him the all clear, he is on his way out the door. Bruce hasn’t called to update, nor had he answered the phone when Tony called him after the mission was over.

 

“He’s the weakest on the team,” Natasha explains. “Surrendered before we used any force, no words, just the sight of us got him on his knees. He will spill information, but it is likely he does not have the more secret information.”

 

“Start general and work our way from there,” Steve nods.

 

“Where are we starting? Other bases? Peter? The Winter Solider?” Clint asks. At the mention of his old friend, Steve, though trying his best to hide it, slightly flinches.

 

Natasha and Steve begin discussing possible interrogation questions to give the agent. If Tony thinks about, the agent is just a kid. Maybe twenty two or twenty three. _Most likely has an eager trigger finger and joined at eighteen,_ Tony thinks to himself.

 

“Ask about the plane crash,” Tony interrupts.

 

“Excuse me?” Steve responds.

 

“What plane crash?” Clint says.

 

“The Parker’s plane crash four years ago,” Tony explains. “Start there.” He wants to be here for that information.

 

Agreeing with his suggestion, Natasha soon is entering the room. The agent, as scared as he obviously is, does not flinch at her entrance. Under the table, he may have pissed his pants a little, but he does not flinch.

 

“I don’t know anything,” the agent says with rapid speed. “They didn’t tell me anything.”

 

“Don’t you worry, big boy, I know you don’t know the juicy gossip,” Natasha responds. “You do, however, know the little stuff. That’s all I want to know.”

 

“I don’t know _anything,”_ he responds. As she walks towards him, this time he actually does flinch slightly.

 

“Listen very closely to me, okay?” Natasha says, moving closer to the boy. “Because I will only say this once. You can answer my questions, or,” she says in a lower pitch, reaching and grabbing a knife out of her pocket. “We can do it the hard way,” she smiles viciously.

 

The kid’s eyes grow much larger. “I swear, I don’t know anything worth your time! I promise! Please, please, don’t hurt me, okay?” He yells. “I’ll answer whatever you want, okay, anything, but I swear! I don’t know where other bases are, or, or where anybody is, they don’t tell me _shit!”_

 

 _“_ Well, you’ll just have to wait and see what I want to know, then we’ll see if you know anything, huh?” Natasha says.

 

“If I’m helpful and all that, I won’t get in any trouble, right? I haven’t killed anybody, I swear,” the agent says.

 

“So you’re willingly working with an organization that prides itself on neo-nazism, who tortures people that won’t work with them, and tried to kill millions of people just a few years ago, and you don’t think you deserve any kind of punishment?”

 

“I didn’t know any of that! Please, I swear to you,” the kid practically begs.

 

“Had you already joined HYDRA when the Parker’s plane crashed?” Natasha suddenly asked.

 

“Who?” The kid says, looking confused.

 

“Four years ago, Richard Parker and his wife and child were involved in a plane crash which HYDRA arranged to happen,” Natasha tells the kid.

 

“Oh. I didn’t know his name was Parker…” the kid trails off.

 

“Who?”

 

“The scientist,” the agent says. “I didn’t know anything about who he was. Only that he had work that HYDRA was interested in. It led to The Spider being made.” Suddenly the kid freezes and his eyes widen. “Um. I mean, uh, you know about The Spider, right? It was you who took him?”

 

“I know all about The Spider,” Natasha informs him. “Did you know that the boy whom HYDRA tortured against his will for four years, who remains scared to death from those experiences, was Richard Parker’s son?”

 

“I know they got him off of the plane, yeah,” the agent responds. “I only know because I saw the kid one day and asked where he came from. I was curious where HYDRA obtained a child without anyone noticing,” he explains.

 

“So, you noticed HYDRA was hurting a kid, and you didn’t think anything was wrong with it?” She asks him, glaring.

 

“What was I supposed to do? Go behind the backs of all my superiors? For a kid I don’t even know? In case you haven't already figured it out, I’m not looking to die here, lady,” the boy snaps back, giving his own glare in response to hers.

 

“Were you ever involved in the direct torture of the child?” Natasha asks instead of responding to him.

 

“No,” he claims. “I’m not a scientist.”

 

“No,” she agrees. “But I’m sure they always had guards around to keep him in check. I’m sure the scientists were not the ones retrieving him from his cell every morning,” she points out.

 

“Look, lady. I never touched that kid. He was creepy. Always climbing up the walls and shit. Not something I wanted to associate myself with.”

 

There is a burning rage inside of Tony as he watches the events transpire. This kid clearly doesn’t see how much shit he is currently in, nor is he likely aware of everything that has gone on with HYDRA since he joined. All the same, for someone to outright admit that they did nothing as they watched a child being tortured, no less Tony’s child, has him wanting to break into the room and beat the shit out of the agent.

 

“Despite the fact, of course, that he was just a child who had been ripped from his parents in a burning plane,” Natasha says.

 

“He wasn’t ripped from his parents,” the agent says in an obvious tone. “That lady was there for like two more years, at least.”

 

“His mother?” Natasha says in a quieter tone.

 

“Duh,” the kid says, obviously not understanding the crucial information he just gave her. “Spider must have been, like, at least four, when they finally decided to gut the bitch. That sure shut the kid up.”

 

Tony freezes. Steve and Clint are both staring at him. There is a silence that is much too loud, ringing in Tony’s ears, as he attempts to process what he has just heard.

 

Mary Parker survived the plane crash.

 

Mary Parker survived the plane crash, only to be taken with her son.

 

Her son, who was only four when he watched his mother die.

 

Peter, who earlier that day, must have remembered the repressed memory of his mother dying in front of his eyes.

 

…and Tony hung up on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnd thats rock bottom. We finally figured out what the frick frack Peter is on about Mary for. 
> 
> According to The Use of Creative Therapies with Sexual Abuse Survivors by Stephanie L. Brooke, an indicator of abuse in children is through their artwork, and Peter covering pages upon pages of just red hearts is a very common thing that is seen in abused children.
> 
> Also I hate writing mission scenes so I basically just skip through them like yup the battle happened now its over!!!
> 
> Also thank you so much for the positive feedback about my idea about the series! I will definitely make on now that I know so many people are interested! 
> 
> I have my whole fic planned out so the chapters should be coming in soon!
> 
> Please comment any feedback, like always, and please give me any suggestions you would want to see in a series of Peter through his life! 
> 
> Thanks! :)


	16. this woman's work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all i'm back after almost three months! I'm sorry it's been so long but my writers block was intense and i went through something personal and I kind of forgot about the story for awhile but I'm back with pain and more pain soooo ya. 
> 
> TW for this chapter: torture. lots of it. emotional and physical. be warned. there will be blood.

_Breathe._

 

_Breathe._

 

_Breathe._

 

 _You didn’t know him,_ he thinks desperately to himself. _You didn’t know anything about this kid, you didn’t even know HYDRA was still in existence, this cannot be your fault, it simply can’t be-_

 

_Breathe._

 

He hears yelling. Soft, quiet yelling, distant, as if he were submerged in water.

 

Water.

 

_Don’t breathe._

 

_Don’t breathe, you can’t swallow any of the water, you’ll drown faster, don’t breathe in, the water will go in, it hurts so bad, you can’t breathe, you can't remember what it feels like to breathe._

 

They’re screaming at him now, in a language he doesn’t understand, he won’t build them the missile, he won’t do it, they can shove him in the water until he dies, he won’t do it.

 

_Don’t get the car battery wet, you’ll die, it’ll get wet and you’ll fry up and you’ll die with nothing, as nothing, you wasted your life for this Stark, was it all worth it?_

 

His hand shoots out, covering the length of the reactor in his chest, he looks down, sees the soft blue glow, a light he never truly appreciated until he knew how quickly it could calm his kid, his Peter, his-

 

Peter.

 

 _Breathe._ He takes a slow, deep breath, then another, and another, until he stops choking on his own air, thinking about Peter, how Peter is safe, safe but broken, completely broken, nothing Tony can fix either, has no idea how to begin to fix. The glow of his reactor, however, is something he knows can calm the child down. That alone, Tony thinks, is something. He didn’t have a nightlight with HYDRA, he does now, he’s better than he was with them, he’s healing, except he isn’t anymore because a stuffed animal he subconsciously placed the memory of his mother into broke and now he remembers his mother dying, he must have been watching, it shut the kid up, the solider said, he was watching his mother die, Tony can’t imagine what that would feel like, he-

 

He opens his eyes. He doesn’t remember even closing them. The voices have stopped. He’s alone, in a room with a dozen computers. He remembers now. He ran out of the room, down the hall until he came across an empty room and locked himself in it. The voices must have been Steve, or Clint, even Nat, making sure he was okay.

 

He scoffs. He’s fine.

 

Not feeling up to facing his team just yet, Tony walks towards the screens in front of him. They look old, not _too_ old, maybe from the early 2000’s. He shakes the mouse slightly, though the screen remains black. He then bends over, studies the buttons scaling the exterior of the machine, quickly fixing the problem, glancing up to see all the screens begin to awaken.

 

He stands in front of the screen, examine the contents on the screens, seeing decades worth of what looks like… security tape footage.

 

_Those bastards filmed it._

 

The labels on the files are futile, with either dates or random names being displayed. It would take hours to look through all of these tapes. _Too bad Tony Stark isn’t here to sort through the data,_ he thinks, quickly giving JARVIS access to the files.

 

“Sir, are you sure you are feeling up to watching this footage right now?” JARVIS asks from the speaker in the glasses Tony had put on to communicate with his AI.

 

“Just work, J. Any footage with Peter or Mary,” Tony demands.

 

In a few minutes, the files on the screen have diminished slightly, a significant amount of videos still being displayed.

 

“There any kind of timeline on these, J?”

 

“Every tape is filed with a date, sir, the first one being simply a few days after the Parker’s plane crash, the most recent being about six months before Peter was liberated.”

 

“Well, start from the beginning, then,” Tony says.

 

“Sir, it would be wise to”-

 

“ _Please,”_ Tony whispers. JARVIS quickly shuts up from this rare behaviour, playing the first video.

 

_It’s dark._

 

_There is only a small light in the corner of the room, just enough to show the absolute terror written on the woman’s face. Mary. She sits there, tears streaming down her face, quietly singing to the bundle in her lap, stroking his hair as he sleeps gripping her shirt. Peter looks small, so small, he was just two years old when the plane crashed, he probably has no idea what is going on, simply that his mother is with him, so that is probably enough._

 

_Her singing pauses as the boy shifts in her lap, staring up at her with those brown eyes, though they do not look as doe-like as they do now, for this child has baby fat, whereas the Peter Tony knows doesn’t have any kind of fat on his body._

 

_“Mama,” the child whimpers, both hands gripping her shirt now. She quietly hushes him, continuing the rocking movements, and leans down to kiss the boy’s forehead. “Mama,” he repeats, voice sounding desperate._

 

_“I know, my sweet angel, I know, baby boy, hush now, please,” Mary says, giving her son a broken smile. “Sleep for me, you’ll feel better when you wake up.”_

 

_“Hung’e, Mama,” he whispers back in a tone that matches her._

 

_“I know, sweet boy, I’m so sorry, Mama has nothing to give you,” she responds, voice thick with tears. “The minute I do I promise you’ll get it. We’ll be out of here so so soon, they’ll find us, and I’ll make you some of your favourite macaroni and cheese, the one with the dinosaur shapes, how’d you like that, baby?”_

 

_“Daddy make better than you, Mama,” Peter says. “He make it?”_

 

_She is barely able to hold in her sob. “Of course, baby. I’m sure Daddy would love to make it for his little boy.”_

 

_“I miss Daddy,” he mumbles, thumb going to rest in his mouth as he falls back asleep to the gentle rocking of his mother._

 

_“Me too, my little angel, me too,” Mary mumbles, one hand stroking his hair as the other goes up to her mouth to contain her sobs, as if not to disturb the sleeping child._

 

_Mary bows her head and prays to God to be rescued._

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

The video cuts there, going black so suddenly that Tony forgot where he was, so intently watching. He takes a deep breathe, thinking about Peter, so small, so confused, hungry and unaware of what was going on. He can’t imagine how Mary must have felt knowing she couldn't give anything to feed him.

 

“Next one, J,” he asks.

 

“Sir, may I suggest pacing yourself, too much information at once may cause you to become overwhelmed.”

 

“Just play the next one, JARVIS, and keep them coming.”

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

_It’s much lighter this time._

 

_It looks as if they are inside a operating room. Everything looks positively sterile, and white, and bright, and Tony can practically smell the antiseptic._

 

_Suddenly, the door bangs open and a guard appears, carrying a flailing and screaming child. The date shows it is three weeks later, and even in this short time there is a difference in the child’s appearance. Peter looks older, due to the lack of baby fat on his face, he lost weight so fast, he obviously is not getting enough nutrition._

 

_“Shut the FUCK up,” the guard yells, throwing the kid onto the floor with a loud thud, sending a kick straight into the boy’s stomach._

 

_Peter yells out, and his wailing only gets louder. He begins screaming for his mother, words thick with tears._

 

_Close behind them, two more guards appear holding Mary. She is only slightly struggling, much less than her son had, yet still giving a fight. If Tony thought Peter looked skinnier, Mary looks absolutely gaunt. It looks as if in the three weeks since the last video, she has eaten nothing at all. From the perspective of a mother, Tony assumes she hasn’t, giving every single little scrap of food to her son._

 

_“Mama!” Peter yells, trying to get up to run to the woman. Reacting quickly, the guard throws another, harder, kick at the boy, sending him flying to the ground._

 

_“Don’t touch him, you son of a bitch!” Mary spits. “He’s just a child, he’s a baby!” Struggling much worse than before, the guards place her in a chair with both wrist and ankle shackles. “What is this?” She demands, though her tiny frame is no match for their brute strength, and she is quickly locked in the chair._

 

_“Boy!” The head guard yells, setting his gaze to the child. Peter must know this man. There is no way he doesn't know the man, for the minute the guard’s eyes set on the child, the loud sobbing stops, only muted, choked cries remaining, and his eyes grow wide as he stares at the man._

 

_“Get on the table, boy,” the guard says, in such a quiet, threatening tone that would scare even the toughest man. Peter quickly scatters to the table, trying desperately to climb the thing, being much too small, and not having acquired his powers yet, he is unable to. He glances to his mother for support, for anything he can do._

 

_“It’s okay, baby boy, it’s okay,” she quietly says._

 

_“Did I say you could speak?!” The head guard yells, striking a hard hand across her face. She lets out a loud inhale, yet does not let any other sound emit._

 

_Before anything else can happen, a small man wearing a lab coat walks in the room, holding a briefcase._

 

_“Thank you, gentlemen,” he says, and they nod and make their way to the walls of the room._

 

_“Well, well,” he says, looking from Peter to Mary. “What a cute little family gathering we have here!” He says in an excited tone. He walks towards Peter, leans forward and picks the boy up, placing him on the table. “And you, my dear boy,” he says while placing the case next to the child, “are going to be my star. My little Spider.”_

 

_“What?” Mary pipes up from the chair she is locked in. “You’re not telling me you’re going to…”_

 

_“Well, Mrs. Parker, I wasn’t telling you anything, as I was speaking with your son,” the man responds. “However, if what I assume you are asking is correct, then yes, I am going to give your husbands serum to his son, the best chance we have at a successful trial, as I’m sure you know, he used his own DNA for the formula.”_

 

_“That serum was never tested on human beings! Richard had barely begun testing it on other animals! You can’t seriously stoop so low to begin testing on a toddler!” Mary screams at the man._

 

_“Now, now, Mrs. Parker,” he says. “I’m not a monster. I won’t do a single thing that Peter doesn’t want me to do, he’s in charge here.” He smiles down at the boy with a leering gaze. “How does that sound, my boy?”_

 

_Peter whimpers. “Mama,” he says, glancing at her._

 

_“Don’t let them do anything to you, baby!” Mary says._

 

_“Now, now, Mrs. Parker, this is his decision, not yours,” the lab coat says. “Now, Peter, I have a question to ask you… do you want your mother to be hurt?”_

 

_Peter’s eyebrows draw together, confused at the question. He shakes his head slowly. “Now, did you know that every time you say you don’t want the serum, that this isn’t something you want, these mean guards will hurt your mommy?”_

 

_“Hurt mommy?” Peter repeats._

 

_“Yes. Let’s demonstrate, shall we boys?” He says, glancing at the guards._

 

_Suddenly, the three guards walk to Mary. They open the panel that is sitting closest to the wall, displaying an arrangement of buttons along the side. They look towards the man, and when he says “Hmm, shall we start big, boys? Show Peter the extend to our promises?” they press the highest number on the chair._

 

_Suddenly, as if taken straight from a movie scene, sparks begin to shoot from the chair, sending electric shocks into the woman tied to the chair, and her screams quickly fill the room. Murderous, terrified screams, cries filled with so much pain, enough that Peter begins to cry as well, screaming alongside his mother, for what seems like hours before they stop. Mary’s screams die down as Peter’s continue, his hands making grabbing motions towards his mother, while the man in the lab coat gently holds him down._

 

_“Now, now, Peter, that wasn’t very pleasant at all, now was it?” When Peter shakes his head desperately, thick tears rolling down his eyes, the man orders the guards to take Mary out of the room._

 

_“Don’t let them do anything to you, Peter! Not a thing! Don’t worry about Mama, okay Peter?” Mary yells as she is forcefully shoved out of the room._

 

_As the door closes behind the guards, the man largely smiles at Peter. “Now, we don’t want that happening again, now do we? If you let me play with you a little bit, maybe put this cool looking liquid inside you, we’ll never do that to mommy again, okay?”_

 

_And thus Peter is injected with the serum._

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

_They spend two weeks ignoring the two. Food and water appears twice a day, despite Mary’s constant pleading that they give them more water. Peter is sick, and Mary tries her hardest to nurse him without any medical care. The serum took, as far as they are concerned, and they don’t care about the transformation as much as what they can do with the results. Due to this factor, Mary is left with her suffering child, whimpering and pleading as his small body begins to change. He runs a fever for a week and a half, delirious and sweaty, mumbling soft pleads to his mother to help him, to make him feel better. She rocks him and whispers quiet nothings, feeds him and desperately tries to clean his vomit in the rags she has, makes him drink water so he won’t dehydrate, all the while desperately trying to keep herself alive and sane._

 

_Mary prays to God for him to be alright. She prays they can be rescued._

 

_At the end of the two weeks, Peter’s fever has completely broken, he can keep food down, he can walk on walls, and he can fight off the guard they have on him._

 

_They increase the guard postings to eight people at a time._

 

_Mary bows her head and prays to God that someone will find them._

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

_They begin taking him away from her for hours, sometimes days at a time. He comes back to her at night, new bruises and scars in random places, completely quiet in the presence of the guards, though the minute the door closes behind them he runs to his mother, jumping in her fragile arms and cries, while she kisses his boo-boos and sings him to sleep._

 

_She never seems to sleep much these days._

 

_Mary prays to God that somebody even remembers them._

 

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

_They don't let her feed him. She isn’t sure how he’s getting nutrients, but her food arrives when he is gone, and is taken away if she tries to wait for him to come back._

 

_She spends the hours he is away from her sleeping, or crying, pounding on the walls, finally letting herself go, to lose control after holding herself together for her son, her son who is being experimented on, used as a weapon for HYDRA, a group she didn’t even know still existed until last year, when her husband was killed right in front of her, when her baby boy was ripped away from her, he isn’t the same, he’ll never be the same._

 

_All she can do is watch as her boy gets taken and comes back with one more scar and one less smile._

 

_She’s stopped praying. She used to do it almost daily, repeating a new daily mantra, and yet she seems to have lost all hope in that._

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

_They’ve been held hostage for almost two years. They get skinnier and skinnier, and yet Peter gets stronger, as Mary grows weaker. Peter, being a child, has long ago begun to assimilate to life at the base. Mary has long ago given up all hope of being rescued, and finds her only comfort in holding her son at night._

 

_Peter is afraid of anybody that isn’t his mother. He believes that’s normal._

 

_One night, as Mary lays on the ground of her cell, staring up at her ceiling, eyes half closed, recounting the night of her first anniversary aloud, Peter is thrown into the cell. He is profusely bleeding from his right wrist._

 

_Mary shoots up and stumbles to her son. She is finding it harder and harder to stand up nowadays, but she will do it for her son. She will always find the strength for her son._

 

_“Peter, my darling, what did they do to you,” she says hurriedly, grabbing a rag from the small sink in the cell, pressing it up to the boy’s wrist._

 

_“They’s want to see if Spida heals by t’mr’ow, Mama,” he mumbles. “Not s’posed to touch.”_

 

_Mary sighs. “I’m going to touch it, Peter, because you might bleed out if I don’t. And please, my sweet angel, never call yourself Spider, okay? That’s a cruel name to give to you. Daddy wouldn’t know where to find us if he were looking for a spider, right?”_

 

_“Daddy?” Peter asks, confused._

 

_Mary’s eyes widen. She doesn’t talk to her son about Richard at all. “Do you remember Daddy, baby?”_

 

_Peter shakes his head. “Daddy guard?”_

 

 _Mary lets out a sob, not caring whether her son sees or not, as she presses the cloth further into his wound. “No, sweet boy, Daddy was a beautiful, kind man. He would have_ never _hurt you. I’m so sorry I haven’t talked about him. I didn’t realize you would forget, I should have realized.”_

 

_Peter sits in Mary’s lap, so they are sitting face to face. “Mama,” he says, bringing his uninjured hand to stroke her long hair out of her face. “Peta loves Mama,” he says, resting his head on her shoulder._

 

_“Mama loves you too, baby boy, so so much, more than anything. This isn’t how I wanted our life to be, Peter. You must be getting close to four by now. We didn’t get to celebrate your third birthday.”_

 

_Peter hums. He does that when she says something that he doesn’t understand. Seeing that he is going quiet, she attempts to change the subject. He always seems guilty when he can’t understand what she means._

 

_“Tell me what you did today, darling. Did they hurt you besides on your wrist?” She says._

 

_“Newman,” he mumbles, falling asleep from exhaustion or blood loss, Tony isn’t sure._

 

_“New man?” Mary asks. “Is there a new guard there?”_

 

_Peter nods softly. “Bubba.”_

 

_“His name is Bubba? He told you his name?” Mary asks._

 

_“M-hm. No throw Spida at all, Mama.” Peter utters._

 

 _Mary looks conflicted. “That’s… good,_ Peter,” she tries to correct without scorning. _“Not throwing is good. He wasn’t the one that cut you’re wrist?” Peter shakes his head. “Well, I’m glad he didn’t hurt you baby.”_

 

_“M’too, Mama.”_

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

_The next morning, four guards storm into their cell. Instead of grabbing Peter, they each pick a wall, and hold their ground. Tony has seen this in several tapes before, all having to do with when the scientist makes a visit._

 

_Before Mary can say anything, lab coat man walks in, smiling widely._

 

_“Well, well, well, Mrs. Parker. From the looks of Peter’s wrist, I’d say you disobeyed orders,” he scorns as if she were his child being caught stealing the last cookie._

 

_“Disobeyed orders?” Mary responds back. She glances to Peter, who has curled up in the corner of the room, a trait he has developed when he is scared and ready to flee up the wall._

 

 _“We strictly told the Spider that his wrist simply_ must not _be touched. And he told you this. You, however, touched it.”_

 

_“He was bleeding, you bastard! He could have bled out!” Mary shouts._

 

_“We would never allow our Spider to die. He is much too valuable,” the man states._

 

_“I won’t sit back and watch my child be tortured if I can do something to help him,” Mary states._

 

_“Hmm, yes, indeed, sucha brave trait, that of a loving mother, wouldn’t you think, boys?” He asks the guards, receiving four affirmatives. “However. You have interfered with our data far too many times for us to turn another blind eye, Mary.”_

 

_“What are you going to do to me, huh? Put me in another torture chair? It won’t stop me from protecting my son,” she shoots back._

 

_“Oh, I’m well aware of that, Mrs. Parker,” the man says, walking over to Mary and stroking her hair. He leans in and takes a long, deep whiff of her hair. “We never needed you in this situation. We only took you for the boy. He was much more compliant when he thought you were in trouble. Such a good, caring boy,” he looks towards Peter and smiles. “We at HYDRA believe that we have done our job in training the Spider in compliance. He does what we ask of him without the threat of you’re safety.” He bends down to look straight into Mary’s eyes. “You are no longer an asset to HYDRA.”_

 

_With that, he turns right around and walks out the door, the guards accompanying him, the last guard out the door turning back around, whipping out his gun, and before Mary has anytime to react, shoots two bullets straight into Mary’s stomach._

 

_He shuts the door behind him._

 

_Mary lays on the ground, and there is silence in the room, too silent, after two gunshots in a small room, until the sound is broken by a shrill, piercing scream._

 

_Mary leans her head toward her son, and weakly holds her hand out toward him._

 

_“My… my baby… come here, baby boy,” she whispers, clenching her teeth from the pain._

 

_Peter is distraught, he had been halfway up the wall to his safe space in the corner by the time she had called to him, but he was always such an obedient boy. He slowly crawls over to his mother, gently touching her wound, whimpering._

 

_“No, no, none of that, Peter baby,” she mumbles. Her hand grabs his, and she strokes his hand. “Baby… listen to me… can you do that for me, darling?” She asks._

 

_Peter whimpers again. “Mama,” he gasps, tears covering his face. He reaches out and grabs the bloody rag she had pressed to his wrist that previous night, pressing it into the wound. The pressure causes her to cough, blood splattering out of her mouth, and yet she has a smile on her face that hasn’t been present in months._

 

_“My good boy… so caring… it’s okay darling, you tried you’re best, none of this is your fault, okay?” She whispers, knowing she can be quiet, her son has super hearing, he will hear her._

 

_“I don’t want you to forget me, okay baby? Don’t forget your mama. That’s selfish of me, I know, but baby, you’re going to grow up in this place, and I can’t stand knowing you’ll be here alone. Know that no matter what, I’ll be here with you, baby boy. My Peter, my sweet boy, my one true love…” she cuts herself off to cough some more._

 

_“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you, baby boy. All i wanted… was for you… to be safe… I’m sorry,” she says. She raises her hand, so weak yet with such purpose, touches her son’s face, feels his curls, and a smile lights her face once again. Before she can say anything else, her hand drops down, crumbled on the floor, and her eyes gloss over, never seeing her son again._

 

 _“Mama…?” Peter asks, leaning over to look into her empty eyes. “M-Mama?_ Mama.” _He demands, shaking her shoulder. He takes shallow breaths, looking all over the cell, for anything that could help, finding nothing, and simply keeps pressing the rag into her wound._

 

_“…Mama,”The word rings across the silence of the cell, surrounding the boy. He remains sitting in that same spot, holding the soaked through rag up to his mother as he repeats her name, begging her to wake up ._

 

_He stays like that for three days until they finally remove the body._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i hope that was worth the wait? I hope I did Mary justice, god bless her soul man. 
> 
> Also her last words were I'm sorry and like thats fitting right ahahaha. 
> 
> I will not wait three months before my next update. I have exams and then two weeks off so I gotta do something in that break right?


	17. rest easy, mary parker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i'm back with chapter 17! 
> 
> my exams went as great as they possibly could and i hope to have up at least a few more chapters up before i have to go back to school!

After watching nearly four hours of sped-up footage, Tony finally got the courage to leave the surveillance room. He had JARVIS collect all of the tapes, and walked out to find the rest of his team.

 

Waiting down the hall for him were Steve and Natasha. After seeing his red eyes, they held back on yelling at him for disappearing so suddenly. He then informed them about everything that had happened, with Peter back home, and with the footage.

 

“The footage will help us in taking down these guys, Stark,” Natasha says, silently asking for access to it.

 

“SHIELD doesn’t get ahold of these,” Tony says. “There are hours worth of training regiments, of experiments done on the kid, all Fury will see is another solider. You can look at them, but only you.”

  
Natasha nods.

 

“You need to leave, Tony,” Steve says.

 

“Leave? Not a chance. I’m giving every single one of these bastards _hell_ for what they did to that kid. ‘Didn’t touch him?’” he scoffs. “I don't give a fuck, man. They saw what was happening to that little boy and they encouraged it.”

 

“Nobody isn’t holding them accountable for what they did, Stark, but you’re present here will just make our jobs harder. No matter how much we all want to, you can’t go in killing them all.” Natasha says.

 

“He sat there for _three days_ holding his dead mother.” Tony says.

 

“W-what?” Steve says.

 

“On the tapes. She interfered with one of their tests, they decided she wasn’t worth the hassle anymore, they shot her in the stomach and left her to bleed out in her cell,” Tony explains, taking a deep breath to stop himself from shaking. “Peter was there. He stayed there for three days holding a bloody rag to her wound until they finally opened the door again to give the kid some fucking water.”

 

“The guard did say it shut Peter up,” Natasha says, less unkindly but more explanatory. “It must have been something awful to give Peter the reaction he did. Especially now with his toy breaking.”

 

“She’s right Tony,” Steve says, fist gripping the ledge in front of him to stay calm. “She’s right, and you you can’t do anything for him here,” Steve replies. “Peter needs you now more than ever. He needs you to be there.”

 

“He’s with Bruce,” Tony says.

 

“He’s with Bruce, but he wants his dad,” Steve says.

 

“I’m not his dad, his dad’s the whole reason they got in this mess, it’s his serum that made HYDRA want Peter so bad”-

 

“Don’t go blaming Richard Parker for this, Tony. He was working on cross-species genetics. He didn’t want HYDRA to have access to it any less than any of us would have.” Steve says sternly. “Yes, maybe he made some mistakes. Maybe he trusted the wrong people. We’ve all done that.” He pauses, thinking about his own mistakes, giving Tony time to think about his.

 

_When I ordered the hit on you, I worried that I was killing the golden goose._

 

Tony sighs. “Yeah, I get it.”

 

“I’m not sure you do,” Steve says. “You can deny parenthood, you can blame this whole situation on Richard, but you know he tried his best. He tried to give Peter to his aunt and uncle while they escaped, he tried to _go into hiding.”_

 

“Okay, yes, I got it, It’s HYDRA’s fault, I get it.”

 

“One last thing,” Steve takes his hand off of the ledge in front of him and jabs a finger into Tony’s chest. “You may not want to believe that you’re Peter’s parent. That you’re adopting him for the sake of protection, or whatever. But you are the most _important_ person in that child’s life, and right now he’s hitting his all time low, and all he wants is his dad, because his mother can’t be there. And he doesn’t know who Richard is, Tony.”

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Walking into the compound is like walking into war zone. He doesn’t want to step on any landmines, he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, he should have had a plan but he doesn’t so now he’s here and he has nothing to say and-

 

He’s looking straight at Peter.

 

The boy is sitting on the couch, right next to Bruce, yet not making any indication that he saw nor heard Tony walk in the room, despite his accelerated hearing. Bruce is holding the toy sloth, squeezing the toy ever so often, having easily fixed the sound box. Peter doesn’t take any notice to it.

 

It’s too late. The damage is done. Mary’s dead.

 

“Hey, baby boy,” Tony says, slowly walking to the couch and kneeling in front of it. Glancing at Bruce, he slowly reaches out to lightly hold onto Peter’s arm. A crutch, for himself or the child, he isn’t sure. To prove that he is there.

 

Peter is staring at his hands, eyes a blank slate, not seeing his guardian.

 

“We called Grace, right Peter? She said she’ll be here soon,” Bruce says. Tony looks at the man. Obviously, Grace gave him some tips on how to be supportive to the kid before she got there. He quickly catches on and does the same.

 

“That sounds like fun, buddy. Grace is always fun to play with,” he says, hoping to get some kind of reaction from the child.

 

Bruce shakes his head. _He hasn’t said a word since the phone call,_ Tony takes it as. Maybe since he calmed down. He was crying pretty hard when Tony hung up on him all those hours ago.

 

“Did Bruce give you anything to eat, Peter? Are you hungry?” Tony weakly attempts.

 

Bruce sadly shakes his head at him. “We thought we’d try again later, huh Peter? That and a nap.” _He hasn’t slept._

 

“Well, sitting here in silence seems like a fun way to wait for Grace. How can we do anything fun without her? That would be rude,” Tony says, deciding to just wait it out.

 

He doesn’t have to wait long. Grace arrives within the next fifteen minutes and sends Bruce and Tony into the kitchen while she talks to Peter.

 

In the kitchen, away from the prying ears of Peter, if he is even trying to listen, or can hear them, Tony begins to question Bruce.

 

“What the hell?” Tony says.

 

“Tony, this isn’t your fault,” Bruce says, ignoring Tony’s question. “There was no way you could have known the toy would break the minute you left.”

 

“Bruce. Does it look like I care about that right now?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay, well that’s not the most important thing on my mind. What’s on my mind is why did he seem like he wasn't even there?”

 

“I’m not this kind of doctor, Tony, you know that,” Bruce tries to explain. “I would guess dissociation, but I don’t know if it works the same in children than in adults, or how children come out of that. After we hung up, Peter was overwhelmed, Tony, and he wouldn’t listen to me, he wasn’t letting me touch him, so I kept my distance, talking to him, hoping he would calm down. He just kept screaming, until he just… stopped. It was so sudden, he just stopped crying and sat on the ground in defeat. I took him to the lab to fix the sloth but by then he wouldn’t look at it.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

Bruce decides to not say anything, rather moving to the coffee machine to make Tony a cup. He figures the man hasn’t slept in awhile.

 

After drinking almost three cups of coffee, Grace finally calls Tony into the living room. Bruce nods to her, bids Tony farewell, and leaves to take a well deserved nap. Tony realizes that the man had been waiting so that Tony didn’t have to be alone in this, and the weight in his heart lightens a tad. He makes a mental note to buy Bruce another lab.

 

“Tony,” Grace begins to say, gesturing for him to sit down. She sips on the tea they had given her upon her arrival, Peter on the couch opposite her, softly sleeping.

 

“How did you…” Tony says, gesturing to the sleeping child in front of him. As far as he is aware, Peter has not slept a wink in over twenty four hours, maybe more. Yet, not even thirty minutes with Grace and he is knocked out. Tony doesn’t know what he would do without her there.

 

“It’s my job. He wanted to sleep, he just didn’t feel safe.” She takes a pause, giving Tony her piercing yet gentle look. “ _You_ make him feel safe, and now you’re back.”

 

“There are tapes,” Tony says, changing the subject. At her raised eyebrow, he continues. “Hours and hours worth of tapes, the trauma he went through, with… with his mother.”

 

Grace hums. “And you watched these tapes? Did you do that as Peter’s guardian, or as Iron Man?”

 

“What?” That is not the question he was expecting to be asked.

 

“These tapes. Did you watch them as someone who wants the very best for Peter, or as a genius superhero who wants information above all else?”

 

“I watched them because I needed to know what they did to him. It was killing me watching him suffer without knowing _what_ he was suffering,” he tries to defend his actions.

 

“I’m not here to judge you’re decision, Tony,” Grace explains. “ All that I am saying is that it’s possible Peter did not want you to know, and that in time he will would feel safe enough to tell you what happened to him. You took that power away from him.”

 

“You’re saying I did this to him?” Tony is taken aback.

 

Grace’s eyes lower, giving him a scorning look of a mother. “Does it sound like I’m blaming you for the crimes that HYDRA committed?” She pauses and looks toward Peter, still in deep sleep. “They took everything away from him. He missed so much of the things that a child needs to develop a healthy mind. You are trying to give him four years that he missed. You’re a good guardian, Tony. I am simply not sure that looking at those tapes was good for _you.”_

 

“I’m fine,” Tony says quickly. “It’s not like they hurt me.”

 

“You had to watch a boy you’ve grown to deeply care about being raised and hurt in an environment that they designed. You _were_ hurt by what you witnessed on those tapes.” Grace explains calmly. She stretches out her hand, placing it gently on Tony’s arm. “Every time you do something with Peter that even _slightly_ reminds you of something that happened on those tapes, you’ll hesitate. You will wonder if he will be reminded of that trauma. That is not the mindset we want of the guardian of the victim. We need Peter to make his own decisions.”

 

“I can do that, I can. I promise.” He takes a breath. Tony glances at his kid, at the small features, even in sleep set into a frown, a frown that no six year old should have on their face.

 

“He watched his mother die.” Tony admits.

 

“We assumed as much,” Grace nods.

 

“I saw it,” he says, shaking his head. “It was on the videos. She was messing up some wicked… _experiment,”_ he spits the word out. “They were cutting his wrists open, I’m not sure why, to see his healing process, maybe? Mary tried to bandage the wound up with some cloth. They decided that her being alive was more of a nuisance than her being dead, so.” Tony opens his eyes, realizing that sometime in that conversation he had closed them. His hands have started to shake. Digging his nails into the palms of his hands, he looks up at Grace to finish.

 

“He was four years old, maybe five. They shot her in front of him, and he watched her bleed out while he pressed that same goddamn rag to her wound,” he sighs deeply. “Grace… they left him there with her body for three damn days. He didn’t move. He pressed that rag into her the entire time.”

 

Grace, taking all of this knowledge in, closes her eyes and deeply inhales. She takes deep breaths for a minute, before opening her eyes again, collecting herself.

 

“Peter witnessed a traumatic experience, Tony,” she says.

 

“No shit.”

 

“No,” she cuts him off. “He witnessed a trauma that nobody can even imagine. You saw it, yes, but you were neither there nor are you a child. Children process things much differently than that of adults. He may not remember the event in itself. He may remember flashes, the gunshot, perhaps.

 

“However,” she continues. “Until a short time ago, Peter hadn’t remembered any of this. He blocked it out. It’s possible that was the first time he had ever dissociated, and he is unaware that it was three days. He repressed the worst memory he has of his mother, but he cannot simply forget her.”

 

“He didn’t,” Tony says. “He knew her name, at least.”

 

“Exactly,” Grace confirms. “He didn’t forget his mother, he hid away the memories that were too painful for his brain to process. He lost the only person he had looking out for him in that place, so he had nobody to talk about her with. So he coped by pushing it all away.

 

“When you bought him the sloth, it was the first thing that belonged truly to him since before he can remember. The first thing that would be with him, that he could hug without fear, so he placed the memory of the only person whom he associated those feelings with- his mother.”

 

Tony sighs. “You’re saying that getting the sloth… made him feel safe enough to bring back the _good_ memories of his mother?”

 

“In a sense, yes,” she nods. “I don’t believe that Peter ever truly _lost_ the memories of his mother. He simply pretended that they were not there, because even for a child, it is easier to forget than to remember the bad things. Perhaps the good memories brought on questions such as where she was now, which led to him having to think about what he had pushed away.”

 

Tony nods. He knows too well about how it’s easier to forget something than remember it.

 

“So when the sloth’s voice box broke, he suddenly remembered her dying?” He asks.

 

Grace nods. “That’s only an assumption, Tony. I can’t be sure until Peter truly speaks to me about his time before he was here.”

 

That’s how she refers to it when Peter is present. She never uses big, scary words around the kid such as “torture” or “HYDRA”. She says “when they hurt you,” or “the time before you were here”.

 

“It could take awhile before he talks to you about that,” Tony says.

 

“Peter can take as long as he wishes. He knows I’m always ready to listen to whatever it is that he wishes to say,” Grace smiles.

 

Tony returns the gesture with a slight smile of his own. He doesn't know what he would do without Grace. She has truly been a saviour to him, to Peter. She takes the most gruesome detail and figures out a swift solution. She is patient in a way that Tony could never be. He can’t even imagine what Peter would be like if he only had Tony to talk to. _It would be a disaster_ , he thinks.

 

Realizing that Peter will not be waking up any time soon, Grace bids her farewell. Tony walks her to the elevator doors. Before she leaves, however, she turns to Tony to say some final parting words.

 

“Remember what Charles Xavier said to you, Tony,” she smiles warmly. “Peter will hit rock bottom, and it won’t be pleasant. This could be it, or it could get worse. You just have to remember that hitting this state, as hard as it is to see your child go through, is a major step to healing. Peter is healing, Tony. You’re helping him.”

 

Before he can respond, the elevator doors open and she steps in, and they close behind her just as fast.

 

Walking back to the living room, deciding if he should risk waking the kid up to move him to the bedroom, or just camp put here with him, Tony stops dead in his tracks to the sight of wide brown eyes staring up at him.

 

“Hey buddy,” Tony whispers, seeing the exhaustion behind Peter’s eyes.

 

Instead of responding, Peter beings a little fist up to rub at his red rimmed eyes. He lets out occasional sniffles that both melt and break Tony’s heart.

 

“Do you want to stay here tonight, or go to bed?” Tony asks.   
  
Once again, instead of getting a verbal reply, small hands reach out from where they had been hiding underneath the blanket, extending towards the larger man.

 

_Okay, so we aren’t speaking,_ Tony thinks to himself. _I can deal with that. At least we’re being responsive._

 

He walks over to the boy and picks him up. As he approaches Peter’s bedroom, the boy lets out a quiet, long whine.

 

“I know, baby, I won’t make you be alone. We just have to put on some pyjamas so we can have a comfy sleep, yeah?” He smiles at the boy.

 

As he changed the boy, he noticed a new box on the floor of Peter’s room that hasn’t been there before.

 

_Pull-Ups._

 

Tony will have to have a talk with Bruce about what kind of accidents he had to clean up while Tony was away. Maybe he’ll build him a new, extended lab to make up for it. JARVIS must have ordered some when he realized Peter wouldn’t be able to control his bladder in his current mindset.

 

After a short debate with himself about the Pull-Ups, he decides to put them on Peter for the night, not wanting to risk any night time accidents, which has happened in the past, but would most definitely be more likely to happen after the last few days.

 

He carries Peter, clean and in fresh new pyjamas, to his bedroom. “Do you want to sleep on the bed or on the couch, buddy?”

 

After receiving Peter’s point to the bed, he walks over and gently places the boy on the bed. He quickly changes into his own pyjamas and walks over to the boy. He strokes his hand through Peter’s soft hair, humming gently. “I know you’re sad right now, buddy. I hope that one day I can put a smile back on that face.”

 

He watches Peter’s eyes flutter closed, and makes a move to the couch, where he has resigned himself to sleep. Before he can move, however, Peter lets out a small whine and grabs onto Tony’s wrist.

 

“What’s wrong, buddy?”

 

Peter tugs on the wrist again, moving over the leave space for Tony to lay down.

 

“You want me to sleep on the bed, too?” Tony asks.

 

A small, barely there nod is given to him.

 

Tony, as if not to jostle Peter too much, gets into the bed and lies as still as possible.

 

After nearly ten minutes in silence, in which Tony is positive Peter has fallen asleep, Peter’s head turns to Tony, his eyes shining with the light of the arc reactor.

 

“Mama hurt, ‘Nee,” he mumbles, the first words Tony has heard from the boy since the phone call.

 

Hurt. That’s one way to put it. What is he supposed to say back? What will comfort the kid? Will a simple agreement help, or is Tony supposed to deny the truth? Does Peter think Mary is still hurting, wherever she is?

 

Before he can give an answer, a tiny hand is lifted and pressed to the side of Tony’s reactor, cupping the device.

 

“Some hurt never gets better, ‘Nee.”

 

Tony lifts his hand to resume stroking through the child’s curls. He sighs, looking into the shadow of Peter’s shining eyes.

 

“Your mama isn’t in pain anymore, Peter. She isn’t hurting. She loved you so much, and all she wanted was for you to be safe. And you are now, buddy. You’re safe with me, and you’ll always be safe here.” He says softly and slowly, praying the boy understands.

 

The gentle action of his hair being petted has slowly been sending Peter into slumber, and right before he drifts off, soaking in Tony’s words, he sleepily slurs out one last message.

 

“Safe with ‘Nee.”

 

Not wanting to risk waking the boy up, Tony stays still in that same position, petting the boy’s head. There isn’t anything we wants more than for Peter to truly believe those words.

 

As he lays there, he thinks about Mary Parker. What she could have been, had she not been taken. Would she have grown old, watched her son prosper? Would she have gone to Ben and May’s house every Sunday, showing off Peter’s newest accomplishment? She was so young, taken too soon. She spent the last years of her life making sure that her son was safe, was fed enough. She died a true hero.

 

_Rest Easy, Mary Parker,_ Tony thinks to himself, to the spirit of a woman who he will never get the privilege of knowing. _Peter is safe now. I got him. You can finally rest._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, that's the end of chapter 17. i promise to have the next one up soon, i'm off school until the 8th of january and work is pretty slow at the moment. 
> 
> Two questions for my lovely, perfect readers!
> 
> 1\. Are there any characters that you guys wish had more screen time, or have yet to be introduced and would like them to be? Shout them out and I'll see what I can do! 
> 
> 2\. Are there any particular scenes/ideas that you would like to see incorporated into the story? Especially because I am making this into a series, any time in Peter's life you would like to see? 
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much! You're reading this means sooo much to me!


	18. sCiEnCe ruLes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year here's chapter 18.

It isn’t as if Tony had believed that everything would immediately get better now that Peter has started to truly understand what was done to him at HYDRA. In a perfect world, Tony would have rescued Peter from their grasps and the boy would have instantly trusted the whole team, broken out of his shell, and become the happy, bright, unofficial child of the Avengers.

 

There is no such thing as a perfect world.

 

Tony watches day in and day out as Peter _fights_ to get stronger, physically, mentally, and emotionally. There are days where it takes Tony hours to get Peter out of bed, where the boy was awoken from a nightmare, positive he was back in his cell, not seeing anything or anybody around him. There are nights when Tony is working in the lab when JARVIS notifies him that Peter has been scratching at his wrists, his face, his entire body, feeling something, someone who is not there, a ghost of a man whom had hurt the boy. Those days are the ones when Tony believes that Peter will never recover, will always be trapped in the nightmare of his early childhood, will never have a chance at a normal life.

 

Those days are the worst.

 

There are really good days, too, when the team can get together for a meal, Peter included, and Peter is calm, smiling, even, where he plays with Thor or Clint as if there were not a care in his tiny mind. Nights where Tony tucks Peter into his side on the couch, reading him story after story, watching as Peter’s finger trails along the words, mouthing the dialogue along with his guardian. It is on days such as these where Tony sees glimpses of the child Peter would have been if he hadn’t been captured. If he had gone to Ben and May’s rather than on the plane, if Richard had never made a breakthrough on his DNA work. He sees a good future for this kid, on these days, one where Peter graduates at the top of class at MIT, works alongside Tony at Stark Industries, marries somebody wonderful, and lives his life to the fullest.

 

Those days are Tony’s favourite.

 

Most days, however, there is a sullen mixture of the two. Peter will awake, more often that not too early in the morning from a night terror that is much too graphic and intense for a six year old’s imagination to have fabricated. He will be greeted with Tony, who has been notified by JARVIS, and together they will get ready for the day, Peter slightly withdrawn and quiet, confined in the memory of his dream.

 

The two of them will spend the day together, unless Tony has a meeting or important lab work, in which Peter will spend time with one of the other team members. Bruce will teach him more grammar lessons, science experiment, or simply let Peter play by himself in the corner of the lab. Thor will try and build the world’s largest fort, completed with all of the Tower’s supply of pillows and blankets, couch cushions as the walls, string lights dangling on the inside as mock stars. He will tell Peter the best, child appropriate stories of Asgard and other far away lands. Steve is more calm, opting to colour with Peter, making the two of them his famous hot chocolate while they fill pages of whatever artistic inspiration they have. Clint and Natasha often spend their time with Peter together, a balancing act of strictness and lenience. Clint will put on a movie from JARVIS’ Peter friendly list, often an animated filmwith music which Clint oddly knows all the words to. Natasha will sit on the couch alongside the two boys, not so much watching the movie as she is Peter, keeping guard of him, protecting the child from any harm that could come his way.

 

Most days Tony is there. Ever since the incident with the tapes, he has found it increasingly more difficult to leave the child for more than a few hours at a time. The last time he left Peter for more than that, all hell broke loose. All Tony wants is to protect that sweet boy, and if being near him is the way to make him safe, then Tony will make sure that there is never a minute where he doesn’t know the kid’s whereabouts.

 

Grace calls it overbearing. Tony calls it a necessary precaution.

 

Another thing Tony has come to notice is a sudden frequency of tears. Before the sloth incident, it was rare to see tears freely escape Peter’s eyes. Tears would build up in his eyes, but more often than not they would be quickly wiped away or blinked back by the boy. More than once, Tony had to remind the boy that it was quite alright and acceptable to cry.

 

Recently, however, silent tears are often found streaming out of Peter’s eyes. He is very quiet about it, never saying a peep, not sniffling of showing any sign of distress other than the waterworks that flood his face. The team would be having a movie night, or a late night dinner, and out of nowhere, tears would begin to stream down the boy’s face. When questioned about it, the boy never responded with more than a few reassurances, claiming he was okay, yet the child continued to cry.

 

When Peter was alone with Tony, reading with each other, or when Peter would play in the corner of the lab while Tony worked, the boy showed a greater desire for comfort when the tears came about. If Tony did not notice the tears at first, as quiet as they are when Peter gets like this, the boy would softly call his name, and Tony would quickly discard whatever he was doing to rush over to the boy. When they were alone, Peter would accept hugs from the man, simply cuddled to his guardian as the tears subsided.

 

When it seemed as if the tears would never stop, Tony mentioned it to Grace. She did not seem to think there was anything wrong.

 

“His emotions are really strong, Tony,” she has said.

 

“He cries out of _nowhere._ He’ll be fine, building a tower of blocks taller than himself, when all of a sudden; waterworks. You can’t think that’s _normal,”_ He had snapped back.

 

“In order for a child to develop properly, they need to be in safe environment where they can express the emotions they need to. Why do you think children have outbursts over the silliest things?” Grace had reprimanded him. “Peter was denied that safe space for four years of his life. Four _crucial_ years of development that the human mind needs. Peter will cry, yes, but he does it because he feels _safe._ A happy feeling may have him conflicted because he doesn’t understand the proper way to respond to that. Even sitting in his play corner building blocks in solitude can lead to tears. Most likely, Peter is being overwhelmed at how _normal_ the situation is. He never had the time to play before, he was reprimanded for acting out, which included being happy, or crying. He’s finally in a safe enough environment to release all the repressed emotions he’s had for four years, Tony. Wouldn’t you want to cry as well? _”_

 

She tells Tony to treat the tears no different than if Peter were not crying. To offer comfort, but take no for an answer. The minute Peter shows signs of wanting no physical contact, Tony must accept that. He must accept the contact that Peter desires, no matter how wrong Tony believes it to be.

 

That conversation happened two weeks ago. In that time, they have experienced three bad days, and eleven mediocre, average days.

 

Today is a good day.

 

Tony knew it would be a good day the minute he sauntered into Peter’s bedroom, at eight-thirty in the morning, and he was greeted with Peter already out of bed, laying stomach down on his floor, quietly reading aloud to himself as he skimmed the pages of the book Tony had read to him the night before. He saw his guardian and his face immediately lit up into a smile.

 

“‘Nee!” The boy exclaimed, sitting up and bouncing slightly on his knees.

 

“Hey-o, baby boy! What’s happening?” Tony smiled back at him, leaning against the doorway.

 

“I’m reading our book! I almost got _all_ the words!”

 

“That’s fantastic, Peter!” Tony exclaimed. He isn’t exaggerating. Peter has made it through his first book, without any help from anybody else, besides perhaps a few reminders from JARVIS.

 

Peter’s good mood held up all through breakfast, where he individually yet all the same as proudly informed every team member about his accomplishment. Every single team member was just as excited as Tony was, Thor going the extra mile to suggest a celebration feast to truly honour the milestone in Peter’s education. Tony, not wanting to let Peter down on one of his good days, puts in an order for Chinese to be delivered to the tower that night, as the team had recently discovered Peter’s love for chow mein.

 

Despite Tony’s delight at Peter’s mood, it does not change the fact that Pepper has been up his ass for weeks about finishing the prototype for the new StarkPad app.

 

He had developed it after discussing with Bruce the best way to teach Peter about words, concepts, and sentence formation. The app has different levels of education, for children from ages two to ten. They begin easy, with shapes, colours, animals, etc. The picture will pop up and the app offers either words for the child to press or vocal recognition, where the child can say the name and they will be marked correct or not. As you advance in skill level, you can see features such as words being jumbled, and the child must then put the sentence together, or a series of pictures in which the child must make a sentence about. Tony is developing a low advanced AI system for the app, that will process the sentences that the child says and determine if the sentence makes sense for the given pictures. Peter has been testing the app for Tony, and Bruce and himself have been watching the immense progress the boy has made, so after several meetings, forcing Pepper to get on board, and hours spent developing a safe way to make it accessible, the app will soon be on the market as a free education resource.

 

However, in order for the app to stay on the schedule they had planned, the board needs the final product by the end of the week. Just a few more days, so Tony must use any accessible time he has applying the finishing touches to the program. That being said, he has to spend one of Peter’s only great days held up in the lab.

 

After discussing this with the boy himself, offering Thor as a playmate while he was busy, Peter had decided he still wished to go with Tony. Bruce, having heard the conversation, immediately offered to look after Peter while Tony worked in the lab, so Peter got to be with Tony, but also is not distracting the man from finishing his work.

 

Which is where they find themselves at this moment. It has been hours since breakfast, all the while Tony has been working on his project, listening to Bruce and Peter as they spend the afternoon together.

 

Two weeks ago, after trying out some basic mathematic problems with the boy, Bruce has discovered Peter’s natural talent when it comes to the field. Within the last two weeks, he had been giving Peter more increasingly difficult problems, and the boy is able to solve them with little assistance from the man himself. Where the boy lacks in his grammar and language skills, he makes up for and tops that in his mathematical ability. Peter genuinely enjoys the math work as well, where he quickly grows frustrated with the grammar lessons, he can go for hours on the equations Bruce gives him, enjoying the way the numbers come together in his head.

 

Today, however, Bruce is giving Peter a science lesson. A science lesson that is making a complete mess of Tony’s lab.

 

“Wooooosh!” Peter’s delighted scream pierces through the lab. He runs after the bottle as it flies through the air. He waits for it to hit the ground before picking it up and examining the damage to the bottle, running back to Bruce to hand it back to the scientist.

 

“Do you want to know how it flies, Peter?” Bruce asks, lifting his lab goggles off of his head and placing them on the table. Peter follows suit with his own child-sized ones. That morning, before beginning their experiments, Bruce warned Peter of the dangers of lab experiments, and how they are to minimize the risks by wearing safe equipment. Peter, despising the look of the generic white lab coats, tried his best to ignore the way Bruce looked in the coat, before the older man noticed his discomfort. Bruce compromised by telling Peter that though the coat was necessary so nobody got hurt, there was no need for the coats to be “white and boring.” The first hour of their lab time was spent tie-dying the coats, to make them more fun. Bruce is currently sporting a bright pink lab coat, a colour Peter chose himself, while the boy is wearing a red and blue coat of his own. Red, because “that’s the colour of ‘Nee’s suits!, Bruce!” and blue because “blue is fun, Bruce!”

 

Peter sits across from Bruce and nods quickly. They had spent a long time building the perfect baking soda and vinegar rocket launcher, enough times that their side of the lab is currently covered in the mess.

 

“Now, do you remember the two ingredients we used in the rocket are?” Bruce asks.

 

Peter’s eyes squint as he attempts to remember. “Um… baking soda and… fin..gar?”

 

Bruce chuckles softly. “Vinegar, yes. Good job, Peter.” Peter smiles brightly at the praise.

 

“Now, do you remember when I was telling you about acids and bases? And what happens when they mix together?”

 

“Bubbles!” Peter exclaims, bouncing in his seat.

 

“Exactly! When the reaction between the acid and the base are created, a mean, unstable acid called carbonic acid is created, but we don’t want mean acids in _our_ rockets, do we?”

 

“No! Nice acids only!” Peter shouts.

 

“Right! So, in order to get rid of the mean, unstable acid, it gets broken down into carbon dioxide and water. As it separates, the gas, or the carbon dioxide, quickly leaves the water, which is why we see the…?” Bruce trails off in question.

 

“The… bubbles?” Peter hesitantly asks.

 

“Perfect, Peter! The bubbles!” Bruce exclaims, causing Peter to let out a squeal.

 

“When we put the stopper onto the lid of the bottle, the carbon dioxide is trapped in the bottle with the water, which builds up the pressure in the bottle. Remember how we saw the bottle getting bigger and bigger before it took off?”

 

Peter nods, using his hands to demonstrate the bottle increasing in pressure.

 

“When we turned the bottle upside down, the pressure continued to grow inside the bottle, until the pressure got to be way too much, and the stopper can’t contain the gas anymore, annnddd…”

 

“Woooooossshhhh!” Peter exclaims, jumping out of his seat and clapping his hands. “The gas and the water is free!”

 

“That it is, Peter!” Bruce says, humouring the boy. He smiles widely, looking up and seeing Tony’s eyes glued to the boy, a proud look in his eye and a small smile painted on his face. “Good job, buddy. You’re just a little scientist, aren’t you?” He says, looking back at the boy.

 

Wide brown eyes shoot from Bruce to Tony, and then back to Bruce. “A scientist? Like ‘Nee?”

 

“Exactly like Tony, Peter.” He looks back to Tony, whom is now staring at his friend. Bruce smiles knowingly at the man, winking slightly before getting another rocket launcher set up with the child.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

After a late dinner which was spent with in front of the TV, watching a children’s musical about the importance of dental care, Clint singing along to every word in between bites of his take-away, Tony finds himself sprawled on the couch with a very tired child laying on his chest.

 

Ever since Peter had asked Tony to spend the night sharing the same bed as him, Peter has accepted the fact that he will not be punished for any kind of physical contact made with Tony. Even so, the boy is never as cuddly as when he is tired. He will cling to every inch of his guardian, fingers tracing the perimeter of Tony’s reactor. The dim blue acts as a very productive soothing light for the child, and Tony watches as his eyes grow heavier and heavier.

 

“‘Nee,” he mumbles.

 

“What is it, baby?” Tony whispers back, quiet in this rare, precious moment they are currently having.

 

“I’m free,” Peter whispers. His eyes don’t leave the blue light, fingers maintaining their petting around the reactor.

 

“What do you mean, buddy? Free from what? From the bad guys?” Tony says, remembering the taboo around the word “HYDRA” when Peter is present.

 

Peter nods. “I’m the water, ‘Nee. They put me there, I didn’t wanna, ‘Nee, and they… they tried to make the… the carb…carbonic acid… to me… they wanna make Peter into bad guy. But I don’t wanna be a bad guy, ‘Nee, and I becomes the water,” Peter mumbles, stuttering over the difficult words in his analogy.

 

Tony doesn’t reply, instead brings a hand to Peter’s hair, stroking his curls as he silently urges the child to continue speaking.

 

“The stopper Bruce put on the rocket… they wanna stop Peter from getting out. But then you come, ‘Nee, you are the gas… you come and you build the pressure up so that the stopper goes boom… and free the water… you free me, ‘Nee.”

 

It doesn’t make any sense… except it does. Peter sees Tony as the thing that saved him from the restraints of HYDRA. Just like the gas build up in the bottle essentially frees the water from the bottle.

 

Tony feels the tears building up in his eyes before they can be released, but he doesn’t do anything to stop them. If crying helps Peter realize that it’s okay to cry, he’ll let all his tears out for his kid.

 

“I didn’t free you, Peter. You freed yourself,” Tony whispers.

 

Peter looks up at Tony for the first time since he begun his analogy. He reaches out and wipes the tears away from Tony’s cheeks. He shakes his head.

 

“No, ‘Nee comes and takes me away from the bad place,” he says.

 

“You know Pete, the only way the pressure buildup in the bottle gets high enough for the stopper to be released is for the water and the gas to work together,” Tony says. “The bubbles can’t be created without the water.”

 

“‘Nee and Peter work together!” Peter whispers excitedly.

 

“Yeah, buddy. I may have taken you away from that place, but you worked to get free from them. I’m so proud of you,” Tony says, watching Peter’s eyes grow wide.

 

“Of me?” Peter asks.

 

“Of you. Always of you, buddy,” Tony says.

 

Instead of replying, Peter leans his head on Tony’s chest and stares at the blue light. His eyes begin to flicker shut once more, fingers trailing to rest on top of Tony’s chest.

 

Right before the boy fades away into sleep, his small fingers curl along the reactor, holding Tony’s heart right in his tiny palm, and mumbles “Love you, ‘Nee.”

 

It takes all of Tony not to gasp. He stares down at this boy, whom has stolen Tony’s heart, and everyday manages to impress him. Nothing can stop Tony from feeling the admiration for this child. Whatever might come their way, Tony is ready to face it. Peter may wake up screaming in less than three hours, and tomorrow may be the worst day of all, his fighting and tears and frustration, yet Tony need only remember this moment. Throw them into a million roadblocks, it need not matter, for Tony will remember this day. The day he truly believed that Peter _will_ recover from this. He will grow up a happy young man who _overcame_ this trauma, and Tony will be with him every step of the way.

 

“I love you too, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was i expecting to compare Peter’s life to a rocket launcher when i started typing about the experiment? no. do i regret it? not in the slightest. 
> 
> i saw all your suggestions and i’d like to thank everybody for them! I looked at all of them and they all look very great suggestions, and I will definitely include some in this story! Others simply don’t fit with this particular story, but as i said, I do plan on making several other side along pieces, and I will definitely try to include everything into those! 
> 
> let me know what you think :)


	19. we stan a protective tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i'm back thank you for your comments i love all of you 
> 
> not many TW for this chapter, though there is mentions and discussions of sexual and mental abuse.

“Absolutely not,” Tony says, shaking his head rapidly.

 

“Tony,” Bruce starts again about his obnoxious, ridiculous idea.

 

“No,” Tony says firmly, close to physically stomping his foot down like a petulant child.

 

“Peter’s a very bright child,” Bruce continues despite Tony’s warning. “He needs to be pushed, to be challenged,”-

 

“What he _needs_ is to be safe!” Tony yells.

 

He’s glad Peter isn’t here to see this argument. However, Bruce knows better than to bring up any suggestion regarding Peter’s care while the boy himself is around.

 

May and Ben showed up that morning to spend the day with their nephew. Despite Star Wars being placed on the list of movies that JARVIS deems too intense for Peter, that didn’t stop Ben from bringing over what looked like the largest Star Wars Lego set he could find. When questioned, the man claimed he remembered how much Peter liked puzzles, and thought the Lego set would be something they could work on together.

 

Tony isn’t jealous. He’s done plenty of puzzles with Peter. Ben is the kid’s uncle. Tony’s happy for the two of them.

 

It’s just that he would much rather be with his kid than down in the lab while Bruce is lecturing Tony about Peter’s education.

 

“He can be safe in a school environment, Tony,” Bruce says.

 

“Oh yeah? Under what alias? Peter Parker? That will sure send some warning bells to the _one group we’re trying to keep him away from!”_ Tony screams at the doctor.

 

“Tony, there are ways to”-

 

“Or, even better! Peter _Stark!_ Why not alert the media that I’m raising a kid! Great way to keep him under the radar? Did I ever mention that there were over _ten_ attempted kidnappings on me as a child? Some of which succeeded?”

 

“ _Tony!”_ Bruce screams. That shuts the man up. Bruce very rarely raises his voice around _anyone,_ let alone his friends.

 

“Tony,” Bruce starts again, this time without interruption. “Just listen to me for a minute, okay?” He sighs before continuing. “Peter is going to grow up working twice as hard as every other child just in order to _survive._ He’ll always need to have someone watching his back, or watching his own, when he is old enough to take care of himself.”

 

“But, Tony,” he scientist continues. “If we want Peter to get better, be like a _true_ kid, we have to start taking risks with him. There is only so much I can teach him. I’m not a trained educator."

 

“Peter likes what you teach him,” Tony states, breaking his own silence.

 

“He needs to be socialized, Tony,” Bruce says sternly. “His best friend is a thousand-year old god. That isn’t normal.”

 

“Nothing about that kid is normal, though,” Tony says.

 

“Tony,” Bruce demands. “I know you had a rough childhood. I know there was nobody there for you, and you suffered because of it.”

 

“I didn’t…” This time, Tony stops himself before he can continue.

 

Sure, he had JARVIS through every step, every stumble of his life, but he never truly had anybody else. Howard was always busy on one project or another, looking for Captain America, never had a second to spare for his son. Though she loved him, his mother was always busy with charity gala’s or avoiding her husband, which in turn made her avoid Tony himself, as she often was out of the house.

 

School was no better for a child genius like Tony, either. Skipping grade after grade, there was little to no _good_ ‘socializing’ when everyone was years older than him and jealous of the treatment he received. Though, when he thinks about it, he never really _did_ get any positive treatment from the staff at the schools. More than less, his grade school teachers acted as if Tony’s presence in their class was a nuisance more than anything. As he got into higher grades with older classmates, it seemed to get worse, as if the teachers had been stuck with babysitting the genius kid.

 

Tony doesn’t want to subject Peter into that life. Especially when the boy had already been through too much.

 

“Tony,” Bruce’s soft voice pierces through the thick air, breaking Tony’s thoughts. “Believe it or not, but in the last decade or so, school’s have started to become much more inclusive and welcoming towards children with specific needs.”

 

“Yeah,” Tony scoffs. “So, we go to some school and say “Hey! Here’s a traumatized kid who was kidnapped, been physically, emotionally, mentally, and don’t forget sexually assaulted! He watched his mother die! Oh yeah, and some of the people that kidnapped him are still out there, so they may be making an appearance! Good luck educating!”

 

“No, Tony,” Bruce shakes his head. “We start slow. We introduce him to things he’s never seen, like the _outdoors._ We introduce him to children his own age. If we think he’s coping with those well, we’ll see about bringing him into a school environment.”

 

“Baby steps,” Tony says quietly, working his mind around the concept. “I’m going to talk to Grace about this.”

 

“I already did,” Bruce states.

 

“What?” Tony yells. “Behind my back?”

 

“I would hardly say it was behind your back, Tony. I simply mentioned it to her while I walked her to her car yesterday.”

 

“I knew that was odd of you. I _knew_ it!” Tony screams, pointing a finger in the man’s face.

 

“Grace is in favour of the idea, Tony,” Bruce informs him. “She thinks it’s a good step to recovery for Peter, no matter how small and insignificant we may personally think the task. That boy hasn’t been outside in over four years, and I highly doubt he remembers it.”

 

“And the going to school part?” Tony asks.

 

“She thinks it’s far away, that he is nowhere near ready right now. But she’s determined he’ll get there,” Bruce says. “However, there was one very important detail she mentioned that we _must_ remember and watch out for.”

 

“What’s that?” Tony asks, knowing the woman and her policy well enough that he’s sure he understands where this is going.

 

“Everything that we do, every time we do something new with him, we have to make _sure_ that Peter is comfortable and willing to do it,” Bruce says.

 

Tony nods. “I know. She’s been reiterating that fact to me time and time again. Peter could be acting like he’s okay to _please_ us or some shit.”

 

Bruce nods. “Everything must be definitely okay with Peter before _any_ of this becomes a plan.”

 

There is silence within the lab as the conversation fades and the two begin working on their respective projects. As Tony works on fixing a tear in Steve’s favourite stealth suit, figuring out a fabric that could prevent further tearing, his mind begins spinning in circles around Bruce’s words. After half an hour of this work, Tony cannot hold in his concerns any longer, and breaks the formed silence.

 

“Where are we going to find a child to socialize Peter?”

 

Bruce looks up from his notebook and smirks. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

 

“Well, as I’m sure you know, I’m against taking children against their will, I know exactly zero people with children, and we can’t exactly put ‘children wanted to be friends with unknown mutant child’ in the newspaper.”

 

Bruce smiles, knowing this is Tony’s way of deflecting how worried he truly is about this topic.

 

“I went to University with this woman, Alicia. We never truly lost touch, though, and I heard she lives in Queens now. She has a son around Peter’s age,” Bruce tells him.

 

“Ooo,” Tony jokingly coos. “A longtime crush, Dr. Banner? Rekindling over your children? Going to tell her all about how you helped save a poor, innocent child?”

 

“Ha, ha,” Bruce says exasperated. “But, no. It was a strictly professional relationship.”

 

“So, you and her smoked pot in the dorms after completing a lab on the DNA sequences of fish?” Tony jokes, laughing even harder when he sees the violet blush appearing on the small man’s cheeks.

 

“ _No,”_ Bruce says firmly. “No. Besides,” he says, radially changing the subject. “She’s was in a relationship at the time, and I had no feelings for her. She married the guy, too.”

 

“Cool. What’s her son’s name?”

 

“Ned. Ned Leeds.”

 

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

 

After dinner, Tony watches as Ben and May say their goodbyes to Peter, hugging him gently and holding on for almost too long, before standing to make their leave.

 

“Need me to walk you down?” Tony asks, more as a tease than anything. The second time they were visiting, Ben seemed to get upset at the notion of needing an escort down to the lobby, and therefore Tony makes the same offer every time the two visit.

 

Which is why, when Ben and May accept his offer to be escorted downstairs, he is quite taken aback. Nonetheless, he quickly shakes off the feeling that something is wrong, and follows them into the elevator.

 

As they descend to the lobby in silence, Tony cannot help but worry. What could they want from him? Are they here to tell him they don’t want to be in the boy’s life anymore? How will that affect Peter?

 

“I can hear your mind from over here,” May says, standing in the corner of the lift, gently holding her husbands hand.

 

“Just wondering what accomplishment I’ve received in order to finally be accepted into the walk to the car,” Tony says. 

 

“We want to ask you something,” Ben says. “Well… show you.”

 

“Show you and ask you,” May agrees, squeezing her husbands hand.

 

“Oh…kay…” Tony says hesitantly. “I’ll have you know that threesome’s are a part of my past. As is watching an old married couple’s sex tape.”

 

Ben and May both looks taken aback, a look of confusion and disgust on their face.

 

“We… We aren’t old!” May sputters out.

 

Ben gives his wife a dumbfounded look. “ _That’s_ what you’re focusing on?”

 

“We’re quite young, Ben!”

 

“Yeah, yeah, Aunt hottie, got it, still not interested in the sex tape,” Tony teases.

 

“We aren’t here to show you any damn sex tape, Stark!” Ben says.

 

Tony hesitates. “I’m strangely disappointed.”

 

Ben sighs. “You never fail to amaze me, Stark.”

 

As Tony is spitting out his next response, May cuts him off by reaching into her purse and pulling out a photograph. She turns the photo to him to allow Tony to see the displayed image.

 

The breath is taken away from Tony as he stares at the picture. Staring back at him are the smiling faces of Mary and Richard Parker. Richard, a man Tony has only seen in a lab coat or photo ID cards, is wearing a ratty blue hoodie, his arms draped around his wife as if he does not have care in the world.

 

And Mary. A woman capable of so much, whom had been through so much in the last two years of her life, whom Tony had seen laying across a dirty cell floor, covered in her own blood, covered in her son’s blood. Yet always managed a smile for that boy. Tony didn’t think that he would ever be able to see her without the strained fear, pain, or worry on her face. Never thought he would ever be able to see her smiling.

 

Yet, here she is. Smiling just as widely as her husband, eyes gleaming with happiness. She is wearing a large T-shirt, only it is coated in what looks like paint.

 

“That was a great day,” Ben says, reminding Tony that he is not alone in the room. “They had been fighting all week about what damn colour to paint Peter’s nursery.”

 

“They knew the baby was a boy, but Mary insisted the room be something other than blue,” May laughs. “Something about ‘breaking the stereotype.’”

 

Ben smiles down at his wife. “They had about… four colours of paint in the room, and they didn’t paint it that whole week because they couldn’t agree on a colour. Finally, when Richard was at work one day, Mary, despite being seven months pregnant, got fed up with it and started painting the room this light purple colour she loved.”

 

Tony laughs. “Is that why she’s covered in paint?”

 

May snorts. “No. Richard ended up coming home early and catching her in the act. He was _so_ mad. He hated that colour.”

 

“He ended up taking the can of the blue paint and just _throwing_ it at the wall,” Ben explains. “Instead of getting mad, Mary just started splattering the other colours against the wall as well.”

 

“They decided that if they couldn’t agree on a colour, Peter would have to have _all_ the colours in his nursery. It was…” May trails off.

 

“It was god awful,” Ben says.

 

“The ugliest nursery I have _ever_ seen.” May agrees. “But they loved it. They loved each other _so much,_ Tony. They loved _their son_ so much.”

 

Tony stays silent, staring at the picture of two young, happy people. Thinking about how so much will go wrong in these people’s lives. In a little more than two years from the time this photo was taken, they’re biggest concerns will be much larger than simply which colour to paint a nursery.

 

Tony looks up from the photo. “Why did you show me this?”

 

“We want you to show it to Peter,” Ben explains.

 

“If you think that’s a good idea,” May nods.

 

Tony remains silent. He can understand where they are coming from, but Mary is such a touchy subject with Peter, and they aren’t even sure if Peter _remembers_ Richard.

 

Having so response given, Ben sighs. “Look, Stark. We understand that you are his guardian. We understand that you know what’s best for him, and are doing exactly that. We aren’t _telling_ you to show it to him right now, just… when he’s older… if he starts asking questions… we _need_ him to know that his parents didn’t want this for him. I _need_ him to know that my baby brother would have _never_ done _anything_ to harm his boy.”

 

Suddenly, Tony understands. This isn’t about Peter at all. This is about the Parker’s. About Ben and May, but also Richard and Mary. Tony doesn’t know what happened to Richard Parker. He doesn’t know how the man was feeling when he died, but he does know about Mary. He’s seen the tapes. He’s seen how distraught she was at having the leave Peter, even in death. How guilty she felt at at being responsible to their kidnapping.

 

Tony knows a thing or two about guilt. How it can destroy you.

 

Ben and May feel guilty about not letting Peter stay with them that day. Mary felt guilty about taking Peter on that plane, about letting him be experimented on.

 

He can’t imagine what it feels like thinking that your child may resent you one day. That he may believe you are responsible for his pain. That you never loved him.

 

“I’ll show it to him,” Tony says.

 

“You will?” Ben asks, and though he tries to blink them away tears gather in his eyes.

 

Tony nods.

 

“I want you two to know that never once have I _ever_ tried to allow Peter to think badly of his parents,” Tony says. “He knows how much his mother loved him.”

 

May looks up at him, tears shining in her eyes. “Does he even remember them?”

 

 _Shit,_ Tony thinks. _Nobody told them._

 

While pondering whether he should tell them or not, he suddenly remembers that the elevator should have reached the lobby a long time ago.

 

“JARVIS,” he says. “Why aren’t we moving?”

 

“I’m sorry sir,” JARVIS replied. “I believed you were having a moment, and did not wish to disrupt with any unwanted doors opening.”

 

“Well, get a move on, moment is over,” Tony orders.

 

He’ll wait until another day to tell them the truth about Mary.

 

As the elevator doors open, Ben and May both bid him farewell, May looking back at him, and walk outside to where their car is waiting for them. It’s not until the doors close in front of him, breaking his view of the couple, that he remembers he never answered her question.

 

“If I may, Sir,” JARVIS says. “I believe it wise to inform the Parker’s about their sister-in-law. It could be seen as a form of closure for them, knowing young Peter remembers his mother.”

 

“Or it could hurt them even more, knowing she was there all that time,” Tony snaps back. “You saw how distraught they were when they thought Peter had been murdered. It would only hurt them even more.”

 

“Or perhaps, Sir, as distressing as it may be for them, they will have some relief at knowing that their nephew was cared for, in that time.”

 

Tony remains silent, refusing to break it until he is back in his living area.

 

He has a photo to show Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much peter in this chapter, actually like none at all, but i feel like this chapter was necessary to show you who's in the loop, who isn't, and also discussion about how to go from here is very important because now we know that they have a plan! They aren't going blindly in the direction of Peter's future! 
> 
> as always, comments are always welcome to tell me literally anything you want. I'm always open for suggestions and feedback :) 
> 
> thanks for reading!


	20. you are my dad (you're my dad!) boogie woogie woogie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i'm sorry this took so long and is kind of short but i'm in midterm season and my power went off due to a storm and the only thing i could do was write this so here it is

 

“…So even thought… th… though?” Peter stutters out in his reading.

 

“Though,” Tony confirms, nodding his head. Peter often struggles with words such as these.

 

Peter purses his lips, eyebrows squinting in concentration as he continues his book. “So even _though_ I may be small… I am str… strong… and I have a voice that is loud and…” he hesitates for a second, lips mouthing the sounds as he connects them together. “Clear?”

 

“Good job,” Tony mumbles, stroking his hand along the boy’s small arm as he reads to the man.

 

“So, when I say no, No means no,” Peter finishes the book, gently closing it before looking up at Tony.

 

“Nice work, bud,” Tony says, ruffling the curls that are pressed against his chest.

 

It has become a bedtime routine of theirs. Peter picks a book, tries his best to read it to Tony, all the while cuddling close to man. It has to be one of the older man’s favourite times of the day. The trust that Peter places in him, being close to him, letting his guard down, knowing that the man will not be upset at any sentence he messes up.

 

Grace gave them the book they had just finished. Tony himself thought it was a bit ridiculous; repeating the same sentence over and over. It wasn’t until the woman gave Tony her stern look and explained that it may be repetitious and boring to him, but for Peter it was showing that no matter the situation, he is always able to express his discomfort and say no to things.

 

Peter has been with them for so long, yet he still often struggles with saying no.

 

Tony himself had been having this conversation with Clint, just a few days ago. That most parents would love to have a child as obedient as Peter, doing things without much question when asked of him, eating anything that is placed in front of him, no matter how much he seems to dislike it. In complete contrast, Tony and the rest of the team get relieved when Peter vocalizes his discomfort in situations, or informs them that he has a rather large distaste for corn. It shows that he is healing.

 

So if Tony has to sit through a repetitive book on body autonomy, he’ll sit there for hours everyday until Peter truly understands the concept.

 

Tonight, though, Tony has something to discuss with Peter before the boy goes to sleep.

 

“Baby,” he says, stroking his hand through Peter’s curls.

 

Squinting through their own drowsiness, brown eyes look up to meet his own, expecting the man to continue.

 

“When May and Ben were here, they showed me something that I think you’ll really like,” he explains, reaching into his pocket for the photograph.

 

When he presents the photo to Peter, the boy’s eyes squint together, concentrating on the image, looking confused as to the contents. His mouth opens and closes a few times, seemingly unable to come up with anything to say about the image. Slowly, a small hand comes up to the woman in the photograph, skimming his small fingers over her digitalized face.

 

“Do you know who that is, Petey?” Tony asks.

 

“It’s…,” Peter trails off, keeping his wide, no longer sleepy eyes on the photo, fingers resuming their tracing. “S’ Mama…?”

 

“Yeah, baby,” Tony says cautiously. “It’s your mama.”

 

“But…,” Peter starts, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “But mama’s gone, ‘Nee.”

 

Tony feels his heart clench inside of him. “Yeah, she is, bud,” he confirms gently. “This was taken a long time ago. Before you were born.” He points to the bump showing beneath her T-shirt. “You see her tummy? She was pregnant with you in the photo.”

 

Peter’s mouth curls as if he was in deep thought. “Diff’rent.”

 

“She looks different?” Tony asks.

 

Peter nods. “Bigger…,” his finger trails along her face. “Happy,” he takes a breath and looks up at Tony. “Mama wasn’t happy with Peter.”

 

“No, baby boy,” Tony denies, putting his hand underneath Peter’s chin, tilting the boy’s head up to look at him. “Your mama loved you more than _anything._ All she wanted was for you to be happy. She didn’t want you to be with _them_ and that made her sad, never you, baby.”

 

Peter nods. “Peter makes everyone sad! Couldn’t save Mama, she cried and preten’ed Peter didn’t hear! She would give Peter her food even though I wanted her to eat! She got skinny and sick, ‘Nee!”

 

“No, Peter,” Tony says. “She did that because as a parent, their number one job is to make sure that their child is safe, and healthy.” He takes a deep breath and waits until Peter is making eye contact with him before continuing. “She was taking care of you no matter what. The only thing that kept her going in that cell was knowing that you were as healthy as you could be.” 

 

Peter sniffles slightly before wrapping his arms around Tony, having jerked back and away from the man during his breakdown.

 

“I miss Mama, ‘Nee,” the boy mumbles.

 

“I know baby, I know,” Tony says, stroking the boy’s hair. “If she could see you right now, I know she would be _so_ happy to see how well you’re doing.”

 

The two sat in silence for quite a long time, the occasional sniffle or muffled sob coming out of the little boy as he found comfort in the arms of his guardian.

 

With Peter’s small arms wound tightly around Tony’s waist, the man thought about how differently his life would have been had they never found the HYDRA base. Had the Parker’s plane never crashed. Had Peter had been with his aunt and uncle, rather than his parents, the day of the crash. It’s unlikely that Tony would ever have met the child.

 

If he had stayed at HYDRA, who knows what would become of the boy. Would he become the world’s biggest threat, taking out anybody who dares to go against HYDRA? Would be the new Winter Soldier, being kept under mind control and cryo-freeze until they have use of him? Would Peter have been sent to murder Tony one day? 

 

If he had been with his aunt and uncle, Peter would have grown up a normal child, gone to a normal school, lived a normal life, had friends, never had to worry himself with the likes of superheroes and HYDRA. He never would have met Tony, maybe even grew up admiring Iron Man and his abilities, written Tony letters or drawings like so many other children.

 

The selfless part of Tony wishes this had been the outcome of Peter’s life. That he would be going into second grade, completely innocent, unbothered by the conflict that goes way beyond his six years. He would come home to May and Ben, to hugs and kisses, would tell them about his adventures at school, and the three of them would watch Star Wars until Peter fell asleep on the couch with his head on Ben’s shoulder.

 

“‘Nee?”

 

Tony’s thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the boy. “What’s up, buddy?”

 

“Who’s the other man in the picture?”

 

Tony pauses. “It’s… it’s your dad, buddy.”

 

“My dad?” Peter asks, watery eyes shining as he looks up to his guardian.

 

“Yeah,” Tony nods. “You probably don’t remember him, buddy, he was taken away a long time ago, the same time you and Mama were”-

 

“But ‘Nee is my dad,” Peter interrupts, cutting him mid sentence and leaving him speechless.

 

“Wha…What?” Tony says.

 

Peter’s eyebrows once again draw together, trying to make sense of Tony’s own confusion. “Clint was talking to ‘four and Steve and says that you are my dad and that’s why you won’t let Peter jump on the ceilings.”

 

“Baby,” Tony says, smiling slightly. “They were just joking. They tease me about it all the time. I’m not your real dad.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because… because your Mama had you with your _real_ dad, Richard,” Tony tries to explain. It’s much too early to explain the birds and the bees to a child this age, right? Are there exceptions for abused children who don’t remember their own parents? Will it trigger memories about Bubba?

 

“‘Four said it don’t matter, ‘Nee! His brother Loki has a Daddy that he doesn’t ‘member! He don’t even ‘member his Mama!” Peter tries to explain to him. “But ‘Four is his brother, and ‘Four’s Mamma and Daddy are Loki’s Mamma and Daddy!”

 

“Well, yeah, buddy, I did adopt you, basically the same way that they adopted him, but that was because…” Tony trails off, trying to find a good explanation as to why he _did_ adopt the boy, other than because nobody else was able to.

 

 _But that isn’t quite true, is it,_ He thinks to himself. Ben and May would have done it, had Tony not been the agreed best option for Peter’s safety. They wouldn’t have hesitated before they let the boy live with them.

 

“…Do you not want me, ‘Nee?” Peter whispers, withdrawing from Tony’s arms and looking at the mattress, twisting his hand into the sheets.

 

“No!” Tony basically shouts, startling Peter enough that the boy looks back up. “Baby,” Tony tries again, this time in a much calmer, quieter voice. “There isn’t anywhere I would rather you be than with me. I want you here _so badly._ I fought to keep you here and I’ll keep fighting for you until the day you decide you want to move out.”

 

Peter remains silent, processing Tony’s words, hands remaining in the sheets. After a minute or two, though mentally more like a few hours for Tony, Peter looks back up at his guardian.

 

“I never wanna leave, ‘Nee,” Peter whispers, ducking his head and hiding his face in his curls. “Even if you don’t wanna be my daddy.”

 

“Peter,” Tony says. He waits until Peter’s eyes are staring up at the man through his lashes before continuing. “I am your legal guardian. By the means of the law, I am your dad. The only problem is that this man,” he taps on the photograph, “he was your first daddy. He was Ben’s little brother. He loved you so much, from before you were born to after he was taken away from you. I know you don’t remember him, and that’s okay, but he will always be your dad and I don’t want to take that love away from him, buddy.”

 

“But… but he isn’t here no more. Peter doesn’t have a dad?”

 

“Just because he isn’t here, doesn’t mean he isn’t your dad. If he loves you, and cared for you, he’ll always be your dad,” Tony tries to explain.

 

This conversation in itself is where the selfish, overbearing part of Tony’s mind is glad that this is the situation Peter had found himself in. As much as it may pain the man to think this, however, Peter is now Tony’s legal son. Peter could have spent his entire life not receiving any love at all, at the HYDRA base, or he could have grown up receiving endless amounts of it, from his true, biological family. The only common denominator in both of these situations is that Tony is not present in both, and Tony is a selfish man. He wants Peter to be a part of his family.

 

He is apart of Tony’s family, now, and he relies on Tony to be there for him. Tony will not let this boy down. He selflessly took the boy away from the monsters at HYDRA, yet he selfishly took the boy away from his biological family who would love him endlessly. He will spend every waking hour making sure that he made the right decision, and if that involves admitting to himself that he is now a father, well.

 

“You can always have more than one dad, right?” Tony smiles at his son.

 

Watching Peter’s brown eyes light up, his smile brighten the entire room more than the arc reactor could ever do, launching himself into Tony’s arms once again, he knew that he made the right choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so ya the book peter read to tony is called no means no by jayneen sanders and i had to listen to my brother talk about how he thought it was dumb and that people should just know they can say no to things like honey have you ever been uncomfortable when grandma hugs you bc I!! sure!! was!!! and i never knew i could say no!!! 
> 
> anyway tony finally came to his senses and he is now a true irondad and im so excited to say that i have every chapter prepared and with an actual outline the chapters should be coming sooner and sooner. 
> 
> With 4 chapters left, I'm going to say that I will probably have the story done by the end of March, but that's just a ballpark!
> 
> I have decided 1000% to make this into a series and im so excited about it I have so many ideas but i'm always willing to hear other ideas because ya'll are the ones reading it!!
> 
> If you have any suggestions or things you would DIE to read about in this series, drop a comment or leave me an ask at my tumblr http://marveal.tumblr.com and i will add it to my growing list of oneshots for darkness !!
> 
> Thanks so much and your patience means everything to me i know it can be upsetting to wait so long for chapters but trust me i'll try and get them out sooner!!


	21. beware the spiderling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i had 9 hours of class today i didn't want to pay attention in and this is the result.

Nick Fury, Tony thinks, doesn’t realize when to just give up.

 

That morning, he was woken up by JARVIS, who had informed him that the man in question that shown up at the tower and was refusing to leave until he spoke with all of the Avengers together.

 

Tony, always remaining slightly paranoid, immediately ran to Peter’s room to find the kid. When he was greeted with the child’s sleepy face, he told Peter to stay in his bedroom until Tony came back for him, and not to leave for anyone until he came back.

 

“‘Nee’s in trouble?” The boy had asked, lips pouting downward, tears filling his eyes. “They come back for Spider?”

 

“No, no, baby boy,” Tony tried to reassure him. “‘Nee just has to talk to somebody, some boring Avengers stuff, and you don’t want to be involved in that.”

 

“Yes! Yes, yes yes! I do!” Peter had yelled, jumping up and down, all trace of sleep wiped from his face. “Peter is a big boy, Daddy!”

 

That’s a big thing that has changed since Tony’s conversation with the boy last week. Peter has, unconsciously or not, the man isn’t sure, started interchanging the titles he would refer to his adoptive father as. More often that not, the boy sticks with his usual “‘Nee”, though now and again he will use “daddy”.

 

Tony was nearly eaten alive when the team first heard the title being uttered out of the boy’s mouth. Though, he is willing to take the endless teasing, he supposes, if it makes the boy happy.

 

“You are a very big boy, Petey,” Tony said. “But right now, Daddy really needs you to stay in here, okay? Just until I come back, and then we can go have some breakfast, whatever you’d like, alright?”

 

Peter had stood in front of Tony for a few moments, contemplating Tony’s offer. After what had to have been only a minute, but felt like an hour to Tony’s rushing mind, as he tried to figure out why the hell Fury would be making an early morning visit, the boy hummed.

 

“‘Nee’ll come back?”

 

Tony sighed. This isn’t the first time Peter has doubted Tony’s promises, no matter how many times Tony is true to them.

 

“Of course, buddy. I could never leave the cutest kid in the world.”

 

When Peter didn’t reply, instead turned to his box which contained a steadily rising amount of toys, Tony bid the boy a farewell and left the room, ordering JARVIS to keep a steady eye on the boy.

 

Which leads Tony to where he currently is.

 

Standing in the main kitchen of the tower, pacing back and forth where the other members are casually sitting around the table, Fury himself positioned directly across from Tony.

 

“It’s unacceptable, Stark!” Fury is shouting, spewing nonsense that Tony is only half listening to.

 

“It was a mistake! I fixed it!” Tony shouts back.

 

“You don’t get to make mistakes in this line of work, Iron Man,” the man points an accusing finger in Tony’s direction.

 

“It wasn’t even Tony’s fault, guys, I can own up to my own mistake,” Clint tries to point out.

 

“Stark knows he should have been watching your six,” Fury points out.

 

A few days ago, the team had been sent on a basic mission. Nothing too big, nothing that required the Hulk, simply some dumb kid who decided he wanted to be the new Dr. Doom, building half rate robots and sending them amok through downtown Manhattan.

 

The mission had been going smoothly, everybody for once following the orders they received, not going off course once, until Tony noticed a small girl huddling in an alley. He had informed the team briefly on her presence, though in the heat of the moment had failed to mention that he was going to retrieve her. He had assumed that telling them would make them realize his intentions, though as always, he failed to realize that their minds work differently than his own.

 

In his retrieval of the girl, Clint has gotten caught up with one too many of those damn robots, one sneaking up from behind and firing a sort of laser blast into the man’s shoulder.

 

Tony had felt awful, apologizing profusely, offering a peace offering of as many arrows as the man requested.

 

“Eh, it’s not a big deal, Stark,” the man had said. “It’s a minor burn on my shoulder, I get worse than this trying to make toast.” He shot the bearded man a smile and shot him a wink. “Though I’ll never say no to more of those explosive arrows.”

 

Fury, apparently, thinks this is a much bigger mistake than Clint did.

 

“You could have gotten Barton killed because of a stupid ass mistake!”

 

“There was a child! What if she was hurt?” Tony argues back.

 

“You can’t stop everything for one single kid! Not in your occupation!” Fury shouts.

 

Tony had been just about to make an argument, thought Fury’s last point has him stop dead in his tracks. Similarly, the team around them have gone quiet, a shocked hush overtaking the entire room.

 

“So, that’s what this is about?” Tony says. “This has nothing to do with Barton’s easy-bake burn.” He shakes his head, raising his head in defiance and staring directly into Fury’s eye. “This is about Peter.”

 

“Ever since that kid got here, you’ve been getting increasingly distracted, Stark,” Fury mentions, tone lowering quite noticeably since his true meaning had been outed.

 

“You’re blaming Peter for me not watching Barton’s back? Really?” Tony exclaims.

 

Fury lets out an inhumane sort of growl, attempting to threaten Tony. “That kid reminded you of _Peter,_ I bet? You had to run to save another helpless kid, is that right? You’re job is to stop the threat, not ignore the threat for one person!”

 

“And you think that because Peter is here, I’m no longer working to stop the threat? What am I doing then?” Tony snaps.

 

“Tony, please,” Steve tries to cut in.

 

“ _No!”_ Tony shouts. “I want to hear it! Since I’m so distracted, I’m no longer an asset to the team, is that it?”

 

“That isn’t true, Tony,” Steve says again.

 

“Or maybe it is,” Fury cuts in. When everyone looks at him, he glares at the group sitting at the table. “That kid showed up, you stopped logging as much time with SHIELD. You’re taking a longer time to produce your gadgets. That’s never happened before, and it isn’t acceptable.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Tony says mockingly. “Do you have another supplier? The last I checked, even in the recent months I’m producing tech faster than any other company _combined.”_

 

“He has a point,” Natasha says. When Fury casts his glare towards her, she shrugs her shoulders.”What? Stark develops his tech faster than anyone, _much faster.”_

 

“Inhumanly fast,” Clint points out. “Never took a break, not to eat, barely to sleep.”

 

“Not only is Tony taking better care of _himself,_ ” Steve joins in. “His tech is better quality. He’s taking his time with them, being less careless.”

 

“He’s a parent,” Clint snorts. “It really changes you.”

 

“You got _shot,_ Barton,” Fury snaps out.

 

“Hey man,” Clint raises his hands. “Don’t put this on me. I forgave him. Mistakes happen in the field.” He looks around the table before adding, “Plus he’s making me more explosives.”

 

“Sir”- JARVIS cuts into the sudden silence of the room.

 

“J, what’s”- Tony begins to ask before Fury cuts him off.

 

“Oh, hell no, Stark, you aren’t getting out of this right now. I am the director of the Avengers and you will listen to me!”

 

“Sir, please,”-

 

“I don’t give a _damn_ about what you had for breakfast, Stark! You are a member of my team, and when I say you’re being distracted, you change it! You need to get your act together, or we’ll have to rethink ever letting your sorry ass on the team”-

 

“Hey!”

 

Out of nowhere, a tiny body jumps straight off the ceiling, landing on Fury’s shoulder, landing a solid kick to the man’s ribs, while simultaneously throwing a fist into the side of his neck.

 

“What the _fuck?!”_ Fury yells, twisting to try and get Peter off of his shoulders.

 

“Peter!” Tony shouts. “Peter, get off him!” He hurries to the other end of the table, reaching out to grab the boy.

 

Before he can get there, Steve’s arms wrap around the boy, trying to tug him off of Fury, thoughPeter has decided he wanted to stick straight to the man’s suit jacket.

 

“You can’t say that to my Daddy, you slime ball! He’s _my_ Daddy! His ass isn’t sorry! He’s _nice!_ ” Peter is spewing abuse to the man, all the while struggling against Steve and now Tony’s hands, both trying to pry him off.

 

“Peter! Release!” Tony orders, the back of his mind worrying about if this would classify as an unwanted touch for the boy.

 

“No more hurting ‘Nee’s feelings! He didn’t like it!” Peter gives his final warning, before suddenly releasing his hands from the jacket, so sudden that Steve and Tony nearly fall over.

 

“C’mon, buddy, let’s get back to your room, let’s go get dressed,” Tony says, trying to usher the boy out of the room.

 

As inappropriate the situation, Tony will think later that it is hilarious how Peter nearly took Fury down clad in his Captain America onesie.

 

“You better get that kid in check, Stark!” Fury yells as Tony half drags Peter away. “I don’t care how close you got to him, if he’s a threat, I can have him taken him away faster than you can try to hide him!”

 

“You suck!” Peter screams out right before the doors slam shut, the muffled sounds of Clint’s laughter following them as they head down the hallway.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

After getting Peter settled down, watching as the boy’s breathing steadies, feeling his heart rate go down, Tony sits him on the bed and gives him what he hopes is a gentle yet stern look.

 

“Peter,” Tony says.

 

He watches as tears slowly fill Peter’s wide brown eyes, the boy looking up at his guardian in distress.

 

“M’sorry, ‘Nee,” the boy mumbles, one hand coming up to rub at his eyes, the other trailing to his mouth, sucking on his fingers in a habit he has not picked up on in quite a while, displaying to Tony the amount of distress the boy is in. Peter quietly mumbles something around his fingers, too quiet and muffled for Tony to pick up on.

 

“I didn’t hear that, buddy, can you say it again?” Tony asks, hands stroking gently through the brown curls.

 

“P’ease don’t send Pe’er ‘way,” he repeats. “Be good.”

 

“Baby,” Tony sighs. Peter seems to take this sign badly, and he finally allows tears to stream down his face.

 

“Daddy! M’sorry!” Peter wails, looking absolutely distraught, hands trailing upwards to tug at his own hair.

 

“Hey,” Tony stops him, gently taking his fists away from tugging. “No, no, don’t hurt yourself like that.”

 

Peter looks down at the floor, tears still steadily streaming.

 

“Baby, can you look at me?” Tony says. He waits patiently, stroking his hand over the spot of the boy’s hair Peter had been pulling. When Peter’s eyes make contact with his own, he smiles gently and cups the boy’s cheek, internally cursing when Peter slightly flinches back.

 

“I would never send you away, Peter. I would _never_ let that happen,” Tony says gently.

 

“Even…,” Peter pauses and sniffles. “Even though Peter was a bad boy?”

 

“Hey,” Tony smiles. “You were defending my honour. My hero.” He waits for a second, allowing Peter to take in what had just been explained to him.

 

Tony hesitates in his explanation further. He can’t very well say Peter wasn’t in the wrong, but he can’t say Peter was being bad. The boy’s definition of “bad” is much different than Tony’s.

 

“However, buddy,” he says as gentle as possible, softly holding the back of Peter’s head. “We don’t hit people, okay?”

 

Peter’s eyes go extremely confused. “Huh?”

 

Tony feels himself growing just as confused. “That’s why you thought I would be mad, right? Because you hit Director Fury?”

 

Peter shakes his head.

 

“He was being mean to Daddy…” Peter says.

 

“Why did you think I would be angry with you then, buddy?” Tony asks.

 

“‘Cause Peter left the… left his room,” Peter tries to explain. “‘Nee said to stay and I left because I heard yelling and you were sounding sad and I wanted to help because I’m a big boy, Daddy!”

 

“Baby, I’m not upset because you left the room. I was in there way longer than I said I would be, and we were yelling really loudly. I’m sorry about that.” He waits a few moments, making sure Peter is paying close attention to him before resuming.

 

“What I _didn’t_ like was that you hurt him, buddy. We don’t hurt other people.”

 

“But… but when Peter was bad… when Spider was bad… they…. and then Fury was bad to you, bad to ‘Nee, so he… he needs to…” the boy trails off in his confusion.

 

Tony can feel his heart shatter into a million pieces. When Peter has steady amounts of good days, so many that they heavily outweigh the bad days, it is easy to forget that the boy still has so much to learn. So much he doesn’t understand. It is not that Tony got upset at Peter for hitting Fury that made the boy upset, it’s the thought that Tony would disobey his orders.

 

Peter is so used to being beaten and abused for little mistakes, for upsetting anyone, that the boy sees it as normal to hit someone when they upset you.

 

Tony doesn’t see how they haven’t seen it before. Peter isn’t violent around them at all, yet they constantly walk on eggshells around the boy, avoiding things that could upset him, and this is the first time where Peter truly got upset at another person since being here.

Tony remembers when Peter first arrived, and had caught word that Bubba was in the building. When he threw his smoothie cup around the living room in anger, upset that he was being denied access to Bubba. Tony had originally thought that it was the boy’s hysteria, the only bond he had at the time was with that man, and Peter blew up over that. Perhaps it was, too, though he was, now that Tony thinks about it, acting in aggression.

 

“Peter, no, honey,” Tony says. “What they did to you, before… that was _wrong._ It isn’t nice, and it is _never_ fair or right to hit people because they are mad at them, or sad with them, ever.”

 

“Ever?” Peter asks.

 

“Never,” Tony replies. “Hitting is very wrong and it can hurt people who don’t deserve it.”

 

“But… what if they _do_ deserve it?”

 

“Nobody will ever deserve to be hit, okay Peter?” Tony tries to explain. "If we are angry at people, we use words to tell them that we are angry.”

 

“Words?” Peter asks.

 

“Yeah, baby,” Tony tries to think of a recent example. “Do you remember the other day, when Steve made me really upset because he drank the last of my favourite coffee and I had to drink the nasty one?”

 

Peter nods. “You told him that ‘Capsicles don’t need coffee or they’ll melt!”

 

Tony curses internally. “Okay, maybe not the best example to use. Okay… um, okay, so, say Thor really wants to play, but you were tired and didn’t want to, but he decided it would be funny to take away Mr. Green Bear to play for himself, and he hurt Mr. Green Bear.”

 

“No!” Peter cries, grabbing for his green bear he had so thoughtfully named. He hugs him close, staring at Tony while he finishes his example.

 

“Okay, so, you would be upset at Thor, but it wouldn’t be very nice to hit him, right?” Peter nods. “Instead, you could go up to him and calmly say ‘Thor, I am upset that you hurt my bear, please give him back.’”

 

“What if he doesn’t give him back?” Peter asks.

 

“Then you come to an adult like me, or Steve, or Bruce, anyone. They can help you,” he smiles down at the boy and ruffles his hair. “But we don’t hit, okay buddy. Nobody deserves to be hurt like you were, okay? Especially not you.”

 

“Okay, ‘Nee. M’sorry,” Peter says.

 

“It’s alright, Peter, I’m not mad.”

 

“Do you still love me?” Peter asks.

 

“Nothing will ever stop me from loving you, baby,” Tony says.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Later that night, as Tony tucks Peter into bed, finishing off that night’s story, Peter leans in and whispers “Daddy?”

 

“Yeah, buddy?”

 

“We say how we feel with words?” Peter asks, making Tony look down at the boy laying beside him.

 

“Yeah, baby.”

 

“Okay… I feel very happy that you took me away from HYDRA,” Peter whispers, looking as if he were concentrating very hard on getting the words out.

 

Tony pauses. This is the first time that word has even been uttered in the tower since the very first time, when Peter had freaked out upon hearing their name. The boy informed him and Grace in a session one day that he was severely punished whenever he forgot to “Hail HYDRA,” striking a fear in the boy of the word itself.

 

Grace told them that they must re-introduce the name to Peter, when he was ready, in order to help him feel as if the name can no longer harm him. Tony can hear the woman now, claiming how much progress the boy had made from being the first to say it. For overcoming his fear, and that they have reached the next step. God, Tony can hear it now and he can’t wait to hear it later. He’s so proud of his boy.

 

“Me too, buddy. Me too.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i hoped you like that chapter only 3 more chapters left!!!


	22. can you summon an army of spiders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi im back with 4600 words of unedited garbage. i hope you like it you beautiful people. 
> 
> TW for this chapter: Implied Physical/Sexual Abuse, and the attachment of a victim of sexual abuse to their attacker.

 

Ned Leeds’ family, though recommended by Bruce, was given a through background check, in order to ensure nothing could be threatening to Peter’s safety. After discussing Peter’s situation with the boy’s parents, Ned’s mother, Alicia, had immediately agreed to have her son meet the boy. His father, however, had some concerns.

 

“You want us to sign a non-disclosure agreement,” the man, Phillip, says. “Why? In case the boy blows up and hurts our son?”

 

“Peter has never shown any signs of aggression, nor has he ever laid a hand on anyone here,” Bruce explained, seemingly forgetting the incident with Fury not two weeks previous. “Besides the Avengers, his aunt and uncle, and before he watched her get murdered, his mother.

 

“Peter,” Bruce continues after a pause. “Peter is an exceptional little boy. He’s come back from so much trauma, further than anyone could have predicted in this amount of time. We, along with his therapist, agree that he is ready for the next steps of his recovery, which happens to be socialization with children his age.”

 

“You couldn’t find any other kid?” Phillip asks.

 

“We aren’t forcing you into this,” Bruce says. “I remembered how kind Alicia was during college, and I knew she had a son Peter’s age who lived around here. If you so chose, you could walk out of here right now and we’ll never contact you again.”

 

“We won’t be doing that,” Alicia said, reaching over to grab the paper’s sitting in front of her husband. After scanning them for a minute or two, she asked a few questions. “Peter won’t be alone with Ned?”

 

“No,” Bruce replies. “Peter finds it difficult to trust new people, even more so when he is alone with them. If Tony is in the room with him, then Peter will know that he is safe, and Ned isn’t being used as a ruse to get Peter back to HYDRA, or to hurt him in any way.”

 

“Is it likely that he would think that? Ned’s only a boy,” Alicia asks, with no malice in her voice, simply general curiosity.

 

“So is Peter,” Bruce explains. “Yet that never stopped them from treating him the way they did. Peter doesn’t know what it’s like to truly be a child. We hope Ned will help, befriend Peter, teach him that it’s okay to be a kid.”

 

As Bruce continues to speak to them more,explaining more of the situation, Tony feels himself slipping out of the room, leaving the man to talk to his old friend more.

 

Once they had Ned’s parents to agree to the meeting, there was one last person who had to give their okay.

 

Peter.

 

Tony makes his way down to the lab, shut down and completely child proof at the moment, where he knows Peter is, colouring.

 

Once he finds the boy, he tells him about the meeting with Ned. Then again. Then again.

 

“Why?” Peter repeats for what seems like the fifteenth time.

 

“We want you to make some friends, buddy,” Tony says, sitting at the mini children’s colouring table that had somehow found its way into Peter’s corner of the lab. Peter himself had been working on a nice masterpiece filled with smiley faces before Tony sat down across from him to tell him about Ned.

 

“Where ‘four going?” Peter asks shyly.

 

“Thor isn’t going anywhere buddy, why do you ask?”

 

“‘Four is my friend, ‘Nee,” Peter says. “Don’ need no more.”

 

Tony sighed, smiling despite all else. “You can have more than one friend, buddy.”

 

“No.” Peter said, seemingly ending the conversation.

 

While Tony sits there, wondering how the hell he was going to convince the boy that this would be a good idea, considering calling Grace to reassure the boy the way that only she can. He watches Peter for a few minutes, the boy staring back, as if daring him to go against what he said.

 

That’s a thing that Peter has begun to have, recently. A sense of rebellion. As he learns more about the choices he is allowed to make, the ways he can say no to things he doesn’t want to do, it seems he is doing it more for the kicks and laughs rather than because he truly doesn’t want to it.

 

Often, Tony will ask the boy a simple question, such as what he wants for breakfast, or what he wants to watch on the television, giving the boy options, as always. Peter will often look back and respond with a simple “no,” to either option, until the boy either will ask somebody else or JARVIS for the exact thing Tony had suggested.

 

Grace says it is Peter’s way of learning, of going through the phases of childhood he missed as he grew up. He never got to go through the trouble twos, so Peter is simply working through it now, she claimed.

 

No matter what the reason is for it, it still bothers Tony to no end. Especially after the teasing he gets when Peter asks Clint for something Tony has been trying to get out of the kid for an hour.

 

Peter looks down at his drawing, adding a few more smiles, before looking back up. Tony immediately noticed the change in expression on the boy’s face.

 

“‘Nee.” the boy sniffled.

 

“What is it, baby?” Tony says, placing his hand in the centre of the table, in case Peter wishes for comfort. The boy immediately reaches over and grabs Tony’s hand, wrapping his small fingers around three of Tony’s. 

 

“Nobody likes Peter…” The boy mumbles, trailing off.

 

“What are you talking about, baby? Everyone loves you. You’re our favourite little boy in the entire world,” Tony tries to comfort him, not understanding where the hell this was coming from.

 

Peter shakes his head. “Nobody _there_ liked Peter. They mades him change his name, and Mama got hurt because she didn’t _listen_ to them, she shoulda called Peter _Spida_ like they did! Even Bubba didn’t like Peter! Only _Spida_! ”

 

Tony stays silent for a minute, watching their fingers intertwined, watching the boy struggle to get his words out. He knows he shouldn’t have stayed silent, but he does. He is at a loss for what to say.

 

Tears begin to slowly fill Peter’s eyes, as he stares up at his guardian.

 

“Daddy,” Peter whimpers. Tony looks up at that word, shaking himself out of his worry.

 

“What if… what if he doesn’t like Peter? What if he wants me to be Spida? I… I don’t wanna be Spida anymore, daddy,” the boy sobs, tears finally falling out of his eyes.

 

“Baby,” Tony says. He gets up from the table, walking to the other side of the table, a bit awkwardly, as he refuses to let go of Peter’s hand along the way. The boy watches him the whole way, and despite months of constant love and reassurance, when Tony kneels down to be at eye level with him, he does something Tony hoped he would never do again.

 

He flinches away from Tony.

 

Only slightly, and seemingly like a reflex more than him truly thinking Tony will hurt him, yet it breaks Tony’s heart all the same. Tony hesitates after seeing it, yet he still reaches out slowly, to place a soft, barely there hand on the boy’s cheek. When it lands, Peter leans into the touch, rather than flinching again, so Tony decides it is safe.

 

“Peter, I want you to listen to me, okay baby? This is important,” Tony says sternly. Peter nods slightly, bringing his glossy eyes to meet his guardians.

 

“You,” Tony says, tapping Peter’s nose gently with a single finger. “Are Peter Parker. You will _never_ be the Spider, and you _have_ never been the Spider. When they called you that, they were very wrong. They were wrong, and they are all gone now. Nobody will call you that ever again, okay?”

 

“But… Ned…” Peter says.

 

“Ned Leeds doesn’t know that you were called that, all he knows is that your name is Peter, and it has always been Peter,” Tony explains to the boy. “Your Mama knew that, didn’t she? She refused to call you Spider because she knew you would _always_ be Peter. Just like I do. Just like Thor does. Just like everyone here does, and everyone ever will again. Okay?”

 

Peter is quiet for a moment, intensely staring into Tony’s eyes to observe the man, before nodding slightly.

 

“I love you very much, Peter, and I won’t let anyone hurt you, okay? I’ll be with you the whole time,” Tony explains. “If you ever feel uncomfortable, we can leave right away. It’s all up to you, buddy.”

 

“You still love me?” Peter asks.

 

“I’ll never stop loving you, baby.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay?”

 

Peter nods. “I love you, ‘Nee.”

 

Tony places a kiss on the boy’s forehead. “So, do you want to see Ned or not?”

 

Peter gives him an exasperated look, as if to scold him for being dumb. “I said okay, ‘Nee.”

 

Tony pauses. “How was… how was i supposed to know that’s what…” he trails off, seeing the joking smile the boy gave him, showing to the man he had been teasing him.

 

Tony will never understand the bounce back stages of children. They can go from crying to laughing within minutes, seemingly forgetting about their distress.

 

“Oh, that’s how we’re going to be?” Tony asks.

 

Peter giggles and nods. He looks down at his paper and his teasing smile turns into a more shy one. “Do I… do you think Ned would like if I drew him a picture?” He asks.

 

“I think he’d love it, baby.” 

 

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Tony hasn’t been around many kids in his life, so when all he has to go on is Peter’s mannerisms, Ned Leeds is a bit… eccentric.

 

Upon arriving to Avengers Tower, the boy was quite excited, though Tony does not hold it against the boy himself that he begins to yell excitedly the minute he sees all of the Avengers. It seems everything in the Tower is worth a squeal of joy.

 

Tony, watching the boy run around the living area of the Tower, inspecting everything from the large TV to the blender, begins to realize why they waited to bring Peter into the room.

 

They allow Ned to run around, asking questions about everything Avengers related, everything Tower related, etc. until the boy begins to ask about Peter.

 

“I think it’s _so cool_ that he lives here! It would be like… living with the coolest people ever! Where is he? Does he think it’s cool, or is he really cool that he doesn’t even know how cool it is? Mr. Stark? Where is he?” Ned says, bouncing slightly on his feet.

 

“Ned, baby, remember what we talked about?” Alicia says gently. “Peter might be a little frightened, because he hasn’t been around kids his own age very often.”

 

“Riiiiight, okay, sorry mom, I’ll be good.” He plasters a ridiculous look of stern seriousness on his face for a second, before he breaks out into a wide smile. “I’m just really excited! I’m gunna have a friend! Not even that, mom! A friend who lives with the Avengers!”

 

“Yeah, baby, but you need to try and be calm around him, let him get comfortable around you. He doesn’t know any different than living with the Avengers,” Alicia tries to calm down her son.

 

“But you said he lived with the bad guys from HYDRA for a long time! Like, longer than I can remember!” Ned says accusingly.

 

Tony sharply looks towards the woman. They had specifically told her that she could not tell Ned about Peter’s life at HYDRA. Signing a non-disclosure is one thing, but you simply can’t trust a hyperactive child to keep his mouth shut, especially about things such as this.

 

“ _Ned,”_ Alicia scorns. “Mr. Stark, I assure you that we didn’t tell Ned any more than what was agreed on. We simply said that he was there, with bad people who did bad things to him, so he doesn’t have any friends and he is a bit scared, right Ned?”

 

“Right,” Ned says, his face truly sobering for the first time since he got there. “I would feel bad if was hurt by HYDRA. I wouldn’t want to leave my mom and dad. I have apathy for Peter.”

 

“ _Empathy,_ Ned. Not apathy,” she says.

 

“Empathy, right. I understand that Peter was hurt, Mr. Stark,” Ned says, looking towards his hero. “I’m sorry if I’m being rude. I don’t mean to be. I really do want to be Peter’s friend.”

 

Tony looks toward the overweight child. The boy does not necessarily look like someone who would be the most popular in school. The man wonders if the boy needs Peter to be his friend as much as Peter needs him.

 

“It’s okay, bud,” Tony says. “No harm done, yeah? Should I go get Peter, now?”

 

Ned looks to Alicia, who tells him it’s up to him. “Yeah!” Ned says, much calmer than he was when he first showed up.

 

As Tony leaves the room to fetch Peter, he wonders if he is truly making the right decision here. _There are many things that could go wrong,_ he thinks to himself. _How many more chances will Peter have to make friends before he gives up on himself?_

 

He clears his mind at that thought. There is no use dwelling on things that have not even happened yet. Though the odds of something going wrong are quite high, there is still a chance this would all go smoothly.

 

God, Tony hopes this will all go smoothly.

 

As Tony steps into Peter’s bedroom to grab the boy, he finds him wrapped up in Thor’s arms, looking like an infant surrounded by the man’s bulk. However, as always, no matter how large Thor is, every time the god is near Peter, it is always a sight of pure love.

 

Peter has his arms wrapped around Thor’s neck, while the man holds him up with one arm, the other supporting the back of his head. Though the boy’s head is buried in Thor’s neck, Tony can still hear the words that the two are saying to each other.

 

“You’ll always be my friend, ‘four,” Peter mumbles.

 

“As you will always be mine, my little warrior,” Thor replies, just as quiet.

 

“I won’t go, if you want,” Peter whispers. “You can be my only friend. Nobody else.”

 

“Oh no, I wouldn’t wish that for you. You are my sunshine, dear Peter, and everyone deserves to have sunshine in their life,” he smiles down at the boy. “I would be glad to share your friendship with anyone who is worthy of it.”

 

Peter hesitates. “M’scared, ‘Four.”

 

“Ah,” Thor says, stroking Peter’s hair. “It is always frightening to embark on new journeys, Peter. Friendship is perhaps the most exhilarating journey of them all, so of course you are nervous. But that should not stop you from embarking on the journey, anyway, don’t you agree?”

 

“I… I guess?” Peter says.

 

“And,” Thor adds. “When I must be off to Asgard, you will have others to keep you company until I can return!”

 

“You’ll still be my best friend,” Peter says. 

 

“Just as you will be mine, Peter.” Thor says back.

 

Though he must have noticed Tony the minute he stepped into the room, Thor finally looks up at the man. “Ah, Peter, Tony is here to take you onto your new adventure!”

 

Peter unburies his head from Thor’s neck, glancing up at Tony and giving him a small wave. Tony smiles and waves right back, before saying, “You ready to meet Ned, baby?”

 

Peter glances up at Thor, who nods slightly and smiles, and Peter nods, squirming in Thor’s arms to be put down.

 

As he is let down, Peter walks directly to Tony, grabs his hand, and begins to walk toward the living area.

 

They walk down the hallway in complete silence, at normal speed, right until they reach the outside of the door. Peter pauses and stares ahead.

 

“You’ll be with me?” He whispers.

 

“Through all of it, buddy,” Tony responds.

 

“Okay.” Peter waits there for a few more seconds, hand going to the door before dropping his hand a few times.

 

“What’s going through your mind, bud?” Tony asks gently.

 

“I… I don’t want… I don’t want Ned to be…. like…” Peter tries to get the words out.

 

“Be like what, baby?” Tony asks, gently urging him on after he notices the boy is unlikely to finish.

 

“I love Bubba, ‘Nee! I do! He helped Spida! When nobody else would, after Mama!” Peter cries.

 

Tony sighs. No matter how much progress they make, Peter simply refuses to believe that Bubba had hurt him. He still believes that the man loved him. Grace had explained several times that it is the thought that Peter was truly alone in those last years that leads the boy to refuse the treatment the man gave him.

 

“Peter knows deep down that the man hurt him. He knows this,” Grace had said, after a particularly bad night in which the boy had spent crying and wondering where his ‘saviour’ was. “Comparing his treatment of Peter to the way his mother did, or the way you do, he knows he was mistreated. He doesn’t _want_ to believe it, though, Tony. Throughout the entire time he was with HYDRA, he had _someone_ that he believed loved him, and would care for him.

 

“So,” she continued. “After his mother died, his only option for safety was through that man. And Bubba knew it. He took the need Peter had for a safety net and used it to get Peter to do whatever he wanted. Once Peter learns and truly understands that the man was _not_ that safety net, in fact making his suffering worse, he’ll stop asking for him.”

 

“So instead he’ll realize he was alone the whole time, with no sense of safety,” Tony had replied.

 

“He _didn’t_ have a security network there, Tony. It’s false hope, that he’s holding onto. He needs to let go in order to heal.”

 

Tony sighs. Right now, they don’t have time to dwell on the past, nor Grace’s teachings. Right now, he needs to comfort his kid, make him feel safe enough to walk in the room.

 

“You love Bubba,” Tony repeats back. “But… you don’t want Ned to act like him? To ask you to do the things Bubba made you do?”

 

Peter nods. “…love him, ‘Nee.”

 

Tony doesn’t understand how the kid can sit there and claim to love a man who hurt him, knowing he hurt him. How can he not know, standing there claiming he hopes Ned is nothing like the man?

 

_Trauma is weird. It makes you do and think crazy things._

 

This is what Tony has been hearing ever since he got back from Afghanistan. Thinking back on his own actions, he never quite understood the sentiment. He does now.

 

“Ned is nothing like Bubba, Peter. Nothing,” Tony insists. “For one, he is six years old. Maybe seven. He’s a little kid, and all he wants is for you to like him. You do whatever _you_ want, in there. Even if that means ignoring him and doing a puzzle by yourself.”

 

“That would be mean,” Peter mumbles, and without another word, reaches out and opens the door.

 

Tony isn’t sure what he expected. A great, white light, a slow motion entrance, screaming from Ned, whatever. There is nothing of that.

 

Instead, Peter slowly steps into the room, hand still in Tony’s glancing around to find the boy he’s here for. It isn’t hard to spot him.

 

Ned is sitting on the couch with his mother, both sets of eyes raised to glance at the boy. Nobody says anything for quite awhile, before Tony decides he needs to be the one to break the awkward silence.

 

“So, uh… Ned, Mrs. Leeds, this is Peter. Peter, this is Ned and his mother, Mrs. Leeds,” Tony says.

 

Alicia doesn’t reply. When Tony truly looks at her, he notices she is staring in silent horror at the scars that littler Peter’s small arms.

 

 _Maybe we should have covered those up,_ Tony thinks.

 

Peter stares at the two on the couch, not moving any closer. Ned does the same. It is quite possibly the most awkward situation Tony has ever found himself in, and he wonders how long this will last before someone breaks.

 

After a while, Ned seems to have regained some of his childhood confidence, and he walks over to Peter. The latter boy, bless him, seems to be fighting very hard not to hide behind Tony’s legs, but he stands his ground. When Ned reaches him, he stands an arms length away, scanning up the boy’s body before his eyes rest on Peter’s curls.

 

“Hm,” Ned hums, as if displeased.

 

“W-what?” Peter asks, free hand going up to touch one of his curls.

 

“I thought you had black hair,” Ned simply says back.

 

Peter pauses. “Why?”

 

“Because, dude!” Ned says loudly, making Peter furrow his eyebrows. “All bad guys have black hair!” He pauses for a second, seeing Peter’s gaze turn very upset, with Ned’s statement that Peter was a ‘bad guy’. Before Tony nor Ned’s mother could interfere, Ned notices the bad choice of words, and continues. “Not that you are a bad guy! I don’t think you’re bad! It’s just, you were _with_ bad guys, right? And they obviously were so bad and wanted you to look like them, so I just thought, you’d maybe have black hair. You don’t look bad. You look like a superhero.”

 

Peter’s eyes light up at the last statement. He looks up at Tony, before releasing the man’s hand, taking a small step toward the other boy and shrugging. “Most of ‘em had white hair.”

 

“Oh _,”_ Ned says disappointedly. “They were old?”

 

“Don’ know,” Peter replies. “They just had white hair.”

 

“Well, I’m glad you don’t have white hair. You would look weird like that,” Ned says. “Do you wanna make a puzzle?”

 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

They spend two hours making puzzles, drawing pictures, and eating fish crackers by the time Tony realizes.

 

This visit is going very _well._

 

Not once has Peter displayed any signs of being uncomfortable, despite at the very beginning. Tony took to sitting in the kitchenette with Alicia as they watched the boys play. Occasionally, Peter would glance up to make sure Tony was still there, but other than that, he seemed like he was completely comfortable.

 

 _Screw you, Bubba._ Tony thinks.

 

As Peter finishes a picture, he shows it to Ned, and the boy looks at it, confused.

 

“Okay, so Iron Man and Captain America are sitting on the floor, right? But… is that you? Why are you on the ceiling?” Ned asks.

 

“Whaddya mean?” Peter replies.

 

“I mean, did Iron Man make you shoes that can stick to the ceiling?” Ned asks. “That would be _so cool._ Is that how you got up there? Or did you just pretend? Because if so, you should have drawn all of you up there, that would have been even _cooler.”_

 

 _“_ I can walk up there, though,” Peter says.

 

Tony pauses. Should Peter be telling Ned this? Is this part of the non-disclosure agreement? He has half the sense to tell the boy to stop talking, but that would both ruin the conversation and Peter’s self esteem. He decides to let it go.

 

“So you _do_ have sticky shoes? Can I borrow them?” Ned asks. “I got one of those sticky hands stuck to my ceiling last week, it’s been up there for _ages,_ and I’ve got no way to get it down!”

 

“What’s a sticky hand?” Peter asks.

 

“What? Dude! They’re only the best toys to ever exist!” Ned exclaims. “You take it, and it’s shaped like a hand, you know? But it’s _sticky,_ and you throw it, and it _sticks_ to anything!”

 

“I can stick to anyt’ing!” Peter says back, smiling widely.

 

“Your shoes?” Ned asks, smile just as bright as his companion.

 

“No, Ned! Peter!” The boy then promptly gets up and runs to the nearest wall, and before Tony can stop him, he scales up the wall faster than Tony has ever seen him go, until he is dangling directly above Ned.

 

“My goodness!” Alicia cries. “Is that safe?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Tony says, having long gotten over his fear of the boy’s ceiling climbing. “As safe as if he were on the ground, honestly.”

 

“ _Wicked,”_ Ned whispers. “Were you born like that? Or, or did they do it to you? Did you get powers like Captain America did? Or are you a mutant, like the X-Men?”

 

“Ned,” Alicia scorns.

 

Peter, however, doesn’t seem to mind. Honestly, he seems quite thrilled that someone is showing so much interest in his powers.

 

“I don’ know how I got ‘em,” Peter replies. swinging on the ceiling. “Didn’t have them before, though. I don’t think so. They put something in me, though, so pro’lably I got it then. I don’ know. I can just walk on walls.”

 

Ned squeals. “What else can you do?”

 

Peter jumps down from the ceiling, ignoring Alicia’s cry and Tony’s sigh, focusing on Ned’s cry of delight.

 

“I think it’s somet’ing to do with a spida?”

 

“ _Wow,”_ Ned says. “Can you… can you summon a spider army?”

 

Peter pauses. He shrugs. “I dunno.”

 

“We should try!”

 

“Okay!” Tony says, stopping the conversation where it is. “I think that’s enough fun for the day, huh boys?

 

“What? No!” Ned cries. “Mom, we were just about to summon an army of spiders!”

 

“i know, baby, but we need to be home for supper, right?” Alicia says, going along with Tony’s statement. He’s silently grateful that he notices something is up.

 

“Awwwe,” Ned draws out a long whine.

 

As Ned and Alicia pack up to leave, Peter stands near Tony and watches. Before they get up to leave, though, Peter walks over to Ned, tapping him on the shoulder. As the boy turns around to look at Peter, the latter boy hesitates, before offering the picture he had just drawn.

 

“Do… do y’wanna keep it?” Peter whispers. “You don’t hafta, but… maybe…”

 

“Yes!” Ned says, grabbing the picture and carefully hugging it to his chest. “Thank you, Peter! I’ll put it in my room!”There is a moment of silence before Ned cries, “Wait!” and runs to the bag his mother had just finished packing. He digs in and grabs a toy Iron Man doll, which Tony hadn’t noticed they had been playing with earlier.

 

“I know you have the _real_ Iron Man all the time, but… this is my favourite toy and maybe you want to borrow it? Until I can see you again?” Ned whispers.

 

Peter looks up with wide eyes. “You wanna see me again?” He asks quietly.

 

“Duh! We gotta summon the spiders! And I have a _really_ cool Lego set that would be _so much fun_ to build with you!”

 

“Oh… okay,” Peter says, smiling slightly.

 

As Alicia goes to round Ned up, the boy follows, but soon turns back and whispers, barely audibly, “Can I… Can I hug you, Peter?”

 

Peter pauses for a second, looking confused, before nodding his head. Quietly, and oh so gently, Ned wraps his arms around Peter’s small frame. As the boys embrace, Tony hears a small “I’m really glad you’re my friend, Peter.”

 

By the end of the visit, and the two have left, Tony doesn’t know why he had been worrying in the first place. Peter is in a great mood, laughing and eating almost all of his dinner, a feat that almost never happens.

 

By the end of the night, as Tony tucks the boy into bed, and Peter quietly asks when he can see Ned next, Tony knows that this had been a great idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the people asking: When kids are unable to pronounce certain sounds, they often don’t even realize they are saying it wrong, until an adult corrects them. So like yes peter is capable of pronouncing his words now but its like a reflex and a comfort to say some things the way he used to, like ‘Nee, and Spida, and “four” because he’s used to saying it that way that by the time he learned how to speak properly he was hadnt even known he wasnt saying spider properly. 
> 
>  
> 
> ANyway i have 2 chapters left and im so excited to begin my next part of this!! I have more done for that than the last 2 chapters so uhhhh ill try. 
> 
> leave any comments/suggestions in the box below or hit me up on my tumblr and ill get back to you. also even though im awkward and sometimes dont reply to comments im always reading them and take every comment into consideration!! thank you so much for reading i love you all so much.


	23. a father's worry is stronger than hydra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowie 2 chapters in a little over 48 hours! look at me! this is the longest chapter i've ever written too, but the costs of that is that i didnt edit this again so like i'm sorry i'll edit as i notice my errors. 
> 
> TW for this chapter: Discussions are made in this chapter about the torture and sexual abuse of a child. Both the torture and the sexual abuse are brought into conversation so proceed with caution.

Tony knows he shouldn’t be checking the surveillance cameras. That he has no right to know what two friends talk about during their time alone.

 

However, whatever went down during Ned and Peter’s last play date had made Peter withdrawn. More often than not, the boy is silent, looking as if he were in deep thought. Calm, though, not freaking out over small things as he used to do, but simply… reflective.

 

It’s quite terrifying to Tony.

 

Ned has been over almost every week, often more than that, for the better part of two months. In that time, the boys have developed a bond stronger than Tony, Grace, or any of the Avengers would have hoped for. They truly are best friends.

 

They aren’t too sure whether it is the similarity in ages, or simply Ned’s kind spirit, but Peter seems to open up to Ned in a way he hasn’t opened up to anybody, not even Grace or Tony. For the first few weeks, the boys always had a chaperone, in case something had gone wrong, such as Ned going too far in his questions, or Peter getting frightened by something small and seemingly innocent, in turn scaring Ned. However, the boys have never truly had an experience such as that, therefore the adults had decided to leave them alone. 

 

For the first time, Tony has _truly_ seen Peter acting like a child. A child with superpowers would have been overjoyed, testing everything he could to see the limits of his powers. Peter, however, received his powers against his will, had the limits of powers tested through surgeries, torturous experiments, and brutality. His powers, as much as Tony could tell, scared him. His powers meant pain, more so when they didn’t do _exactly_ what HYDRA wanted them to do.

 

Ned, however, has opened Peter’s mind to accepting his powers. He allows Peter to play around with his powers without feeling pain, simply fun curiosity. Much to their disappointment,Peter could _not_ summon and army of spiders, try as they might. When Ned asked Peter if he could spin webs, as a spider does, Peter had withdrawn into himself slightly, showing Ned the scars on his arms and informing the boy that they had tried already, to no avail.

 

“Well, that’s dumb,” Ned had said. “Spiders spin webs from their tummies, everyone knows that.”

 

“I think… I think they tried that, too,” Peter replied, looking slightly uncomfortable. “They cut there a couple times. I jus’ can’t do it.”

 

Ned frowned at his friend. “Well, we’re _way_ smarter than them. If you want to spin webs, we’ll find a way! Like with the spider army!”

 

Peter nodded, the situation and discomfort all but forgotten.

 

Once the boys started being left alone, nothing seemed to change much. Ned would show up, they would seemingly do the same things they did before, simply without any adult supervision. JARVIS was always keeping an eye on the two, in case there were any problems. For about a month, everything was great. After Ned would leave, Peter spent the rest of the day in a great mood, bouncing all over the place while rambling about whatever it was they talked about that day.

 

Until now. It began a normal day. Ned showed up, him and Peter scattered off into a spare room Tony had turned into a sort of play room, once he noticed how the living area was more toys than floor.

 

The boys played, or talked, or did whatever it was they did, for three hours, until Ned’s mother picked him up. Tony watched as Ned asked for a hug, as he always does, to which Peter would accept. Today, however, the boy quickly shook his head. Ned’s eyebrows furrowed, though he did not question Peter’s denial. Instead, as he left, the boy yelled “Bye Peter! I love you!”

 

Peter waved to Ned, Ned and his mother disappeared into the elevator, and then it was just Tony and Peter in the room.

 

“You alright, buddy?” Tony asked, noticing it was the first time the boy had ever denied a hug from his friend.

 

Peter nodded. “I jus’ did’t wanna hug ‘im, s’all.” His voice was soft and wet, as if he were going to cry.

 

“Did something happen today, with Ned?” Tony asked.

 

The boy shook his head. After a few more nudges to try and get the boy to open up, and a few more insistences that he was fine, Tony let it go.

 

That was five days ago.

 

Since then, Peter has been almost a shell of himself, barely eating, not showing any emotion, or hiding his tears away on his bed where he pretends Tony can’t hear him. Yet, he constantly looks as if he were a six year old going through a mid-life crisis.

 

The worry has increasingly been consuming Tony since that day, and it has gotten so deep that he is nearly submerged in it. So, while Peter is doing his now monthly checkup with Bruce, where they had originally been weekly, Tony takes time to check the surveillance cameras from that day.

 

He knows he shouldn’t. But he doesn’t know what else to do.

 

JARVIS, bless him, doesn’t give Tony any warning about privacy. _The boys are six, it isn’t as if privacy is the thing they need the most,_ Tony tries to reason with himself.

 

Turning on the footage, he watches nearly two and a half hours worth of… nothing. Or, nothing unusual, that is. The boys are playing a game that Tony can barely keep up with, which seems to involve more imagination than actual logic. He isn’t quite sure how they are keeping up with each other without actually _communicating,_ though he figures it’s how all children work. They probably aren’t even understanding each other, simply playing with the other’s company.

 

Only a half an hour before the end of the tape, when Ned’s mother came to get him, Tony notices a change in the tone of the conversation, and truly begins to focus his attention on it.

 

_“Hey, Pete?” Ned says, glancing at the boy who was on his way to add another blanket to the ‘World’s Biggest Blanket Spaceship’._

 

_“Yeah?”_

 

_“You’re my best friend, did you know that?” Ned says, his eyes trailing to the floor._

 

_“I am?” Peter says, eyes widening. “What about all your friends from the school?”_

 

That’s one thing that Ned has brought into the picture that Tony is definitely not ready for. School. Ned talks about his lessons at school a lot, and though the boy enjoys his lessons with Bruce, Peter seems all too excited to start himself. Tony isn’t sure if it is more the fact that he could be with Ned more often, or his desire to be in a sweat smelling building with unforgiving children. Either way, Tony isn’t quite sure he is ready to let his kid go yet.

 

 _“Well, I mean… I have friends there, sure,” Ned says. “But they all have a_ best _friend, and even though my mom says you can have more than one, they don’t seem to think that. They think I’m weird, you know?”_

 

 _Peter shakes his head. “I don’t think you’re weird. I think you’re the coolest person_ ever.”

 

_Ned beams at his friend. “I think you’re the coolest person ever! That’s why you’re my best friend, not those lame, mean people at school who tell me I’m fat!”_

 

_“What does that mean?” Peter asks._

 

_“What does what mean?” Ned asks back, confused._

 

_“Fat.”_

 

_Ned laughs. When Peter frowns, Ned must realize he isn’t joking, and looks sad. “It’s… what I look like? How I’m really big? Especially for a kid.”_

 

_“Thor’s big.” Peter says. “Is he fat?”_

 

_Ned’s eyes widen. “No! He’s big with… with muscle. I’m fat with… fat. I need to lose weight, then they’ll be my friends, they said.”_

 

_Peter looks taken aback. “That’s really dumb,” Peter says. “Bruce says I need to get bigger, because I’m too small, and the bigger I get, the healthier my body will get.”_

 

 _“Well, you’re_ you. _And I’m me.”_

 

_Peter frowns. “I like you now, Ned. I don’t want you to change. HYDRA tried to make me change, and it didn’t work. You shouldn’t change because mean people tell you that you gotta.”_

 

_Ned looks at Peter and furrows his eyebrows._

 

_“And,” Peter continues. “School people sound dumb. You can have more than one best friend. Thor said so.”_

 

_“He did?” Ned says, eyes wide._

 

_Peter nods. “He says, that the more best friends you have, the more sunshine will be around people!”_

 

_Ned laughs. “That doesn’t make any sense!”_

 

_“Does too!”_

 

_“Does not!”_

 

_“Thor always knows what he’s talkin’ about,” Peter claims in a matter of fact voice._

 

_“That’s true,” Ned agrees._

 

_The two play in silence for a few minutes before Ned once again breaks the silence._

 

_“Did you have a best friend when you were with HYDRA?”_

 

_Peter hums a bit as he fiddles with the chair leg, trying to find the best position to keep the blanket in place. “I had Bubba,” he says._

 

_“Who’s Bubba?” Ned says. “Is he a bad guy?”_

 

_“No!” Peter says. “He’s diffe’ent. He took care of me after Mama died.”_

 

_Ned makes a wounded noise. “Your mom died?” At Peter’s nod, the boy asks, “Is that why you live with Mr. Stark now that they saved you?”_

 

_Peter nods unsurely. “I guess. I don’t got anybody else.”_

 

_“Where’s Bubba now? Is he still with them?” Ned asks._

 

_“I don’t know… they won’t tell me because they think he’s a bad guy too, but… but he’s not, Ned, I promise! He took care of me!”_

 

_Ned points to the scars that litter Peter’s arms. “Did he give you band-aids for your boo-boos? That’s what my Daddy does for me when I get hurt.”_

 

_“Well… no, but… but they wouldn’t let him!” Peter tries to defend the man. “He never yelled at Peter, only when I was being really bad! They always yelled-ed at me, always! Bubba was nice and when I was really, really good sometimes he gave me things… like food that wasn’t allowed!”_

 

_“Did he give you time outs when you were bad?” Ned asks innocently._

 

_“What’s a time out?” Peter asks._

 

_“It’s when you are bad so your parents put you in your room with no video games or any toys to play with so you can think about what you did,” Ned tried to explain._

 

_“Oh… I didn’t have video games, or toys… sometimes Bubba would leave me alone and wouldn’t talk to me until I said I was sorry, does that count?”_

 

_“What was he mad at you for?” Ned asks. “Because, once I didn’t want to go to Church, so my mom made me sit in my room instead. Or, once I told them I cleaned my room but I actually just threw all my toys in my closet, so they got mad.”_

 

 _“Oh… um, he wouldn’t get mad if I did what he wanted… but something it just_ hurt _and I couldn’t do it, no matter what he wanted!” Peter cries._

 

_Ned gasps. “Bubba hurt you?”_

 

_“Only sometimes! He said it’s what friends do!” Peter said. “He took care of me so he got to do what he wanted with me!”_

 

 _Ned looks as if he were close to tears, even more so than Peter himself did. “Peter, I don’t think friends should_ ever _hurt each other, no matter what. Especially not adults.”_

 

_“But he took care of me…” Peter mumbles, sounding unsure._

 

_“Did he take care of you, or did he pretend to be nice so he could be mean?” Ned asks. “Mommy told me that sometimes mean people will offer candy or nice things so they can do bad things to you.”_

 

_“Really?” Peter says, his eyes wide._

 

_“Yeah!” Ned exclaims. “She said if an adult is ever hurting me, or even acting nice, but making me feel uncomfortable or scared, then I should always tell an adult I trust.”_

 

_Peter is quiet for a bit, enough for Ned to suddenly look alarmed._

 

_“Peter… does Mr. Stark hurt you?” Ned asks._

 

_Peter’s eyes widen dramatically. “No! No, Ned, no, no, no, no, ‘Nee is so, so nice to me! He plays with me, and lets me colour while he works, and… and when I wake up at night and I’m scared he always comes and reads to me!”_

 

_Ned relaxes at Peter’s confession. “Good. Mr. Stark sounds like a really great dad.”_

 

_“He is!” Peter says. “Daddy never hurted me.”_

 

_“But Bubba did?”_

 

Peter stays silent until Tony watches himself come into frame, telling Ned that his mother is there to pick him up,. Tony continues to watch as the boys say their farewells, suddenly understanding the meaning behind Peter’s unwillingness for the hug, until the tape dies off.

 

He sits there for an unknown amount of time, letting it sink in that not only did Ned achieve more with the Bubba situation in one day then Tony has in months, but also that the conversation must have shaken Peter enough that it’s been taking him days to process this.

 

He decides not to talk to Peter about it. He will let the boy come to him, to confide in his dad when he feels he is ready to. When that time comes, Tony will be there for him.

 

As he ponders, he realizes that he isn’t upset at the conversation. He isn’t upset that Peter is acting different, because the boy is healing. He is taking his time to process what has happened to him. If he feels he needs to do it alone, then Tony will wait for him until he needs a shoulder to lean on. Peter spent years on his own, with no form of support, that perhaps he feels the best way to realize he was alone is to _be_ alone. This isn’t bad news to Tony.

 

It’s the boy’s way of vanquishing a demon he never truly knew was there.

 

Tony sits there for a long time, before realizing that three hours worth of footage, and who knows how long amount of time pondering, is much too long an amount of time for a simple check up.

 

“J, where’s Peter at?”

 

“Peter is currently in the communal kitchen area, along with Dr. Banner and Captain Rogers.”

 

Tony furrows his eyebrows. They usually stick to a tight eating schedule with Peter, and as he already ate dinner, Tony isn’t sure what they could be doing in there. As he makes his way up to investigate, he ponders the amount of progress that the boy has made. He pictures the skeletal looking boy who shook in fear in a dirty cell, wearing dirty clothes, cowering away from Tony, the only touch he knew was pain.

 

He sees the boy in the SHIELD holding cell, crawling ever so slowly over to Tony, too curious over the bone scans in his hand to ignore. The very first day Peter fell asleep in Tony’s arms, as the man sang him to sleep.

 

Just mentioning Bubba had the boy flinging his juice cup around the room, enraged and ever so frustrated that he couldn’t see the man. Now, he can hold conversations about the man without throwing any fits, can discuss the man with others.

 

God, Tony _adopted_ the kid. Peter is legally a Stark. He thinks back to the endless jokes about Tony’s protection over the kid. His denial that his feelings were anything other than parental. He scoffs to himself as he thinks about it.

 

 _Yeah,_ Tony thinks. _He had your heart the minute he looked at you._

 

As he enters the kitchen, the first thing he sees is the mess. There is flour out, and everywhere. It is covering the floor, the counters, the faces of the three boys facing him, all with different kinds of smiles plastering their faces.

 

Steve, beaming up at Tony, blue eyes shining even more so when surrounded by the white powder.

 

Bruce, soft smile radiating as he attempts to half-ass a clean up of the mess, swiping the flour off the counter and onto the floor, as if Tony wouldn’t see.

 

And Peter, sweet, honest, bright little Peter, a shy, somewhat unsure grin spreading across his face, for the first time in days, face even messier than the others. It seems as if an egg has been crushed over his head, yolk soaked into the curls.

 

“Well, this is a surprise,” Tony says, glancing at the three, then at the mess, then back at them. He looks directly at Peter and gives him a smirk. “Wanna tell your good ol’ dad what brought this on?”

 

Peter ducks his head in mock shame, before pointing to the cake currently being presented in Steve’s arms. It seems to be a rainbow batter cake, with way too much and unevenly spread chocolate icing, the giant numbers “40” littering the top.

 

“I mean, I’m flattered you think so and all, but one, it is not my birthday, and two, I am well over 40,” Tony says. “If you were trying to go for a kind gesture, at least a 39 would have worked, the 40 seems a little old, you know?”

 

“No, silly,” Peter says. Tony looks over to him and he gives the man a smile, before patting his stomach.

 

“You…,” Tony trails off.

 

“That’s right,” Steve practically sings.

 

“You!” Tony exclaims.

 

“Peter is officially 40 pounds, a very healthy weight for his age, along with a pass in all physical parts of the check up, and has officially gotten the all clear from medical!” Bruce says.

 

Tony doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He can’t, because he can feel the tears fill his eyes. He has a healthy kid. A healthy kid, who is working so hard to get that pass in all mental parts of the check up as well.

 

He coughs to clear his throat, willing the tears away. “Healthy baby,” he says with a thick voice.

 

“Healthy baby!” Steve says, gently poking Peter in the side.

 

Tony will always remember the giggle the boy gives in response.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

_Tony sniffs, blinking back tears that had gathered the minute he was given permission to leave his father’s lab. Tony likes being in the lab, building things, he likes it more than anything, even his toy cars._

 

_What he doesn’t like is his father’s presence, leering over his shoulder like an omen, looking for any error he can find in Tony’s work. It had been quite bad today. As time went on, the insults being thrown more and more frequently, all the boy wanted to do was hide. After seemingly getting bored at his son’s work, Howard allowed Tony to leave, but not before he could throw one last insult over his shoulder._

 

_“Sometimes I think you aren’t even mine, you’re such an idiot, Anthony.”_

 

_Tears quickly building, Tony ran to the one person who has never let him down in his quest for comfort. Upon seeing the man, Tony jumped into his lap, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck, holding on for dear life. With his head hidden in the safety of his best friend’s neck, soothing words of comfort filling the room as the man attempted to soothe the boy._

 

_“I wish you were my dad, Jarvis,” Tony mumbles out, words barely audible._

 

_Jarvis sighs. “You know that your father loves you, Tony. Even if he doesn’t show it in the obvious ways.”_

 

_“Nuh-uh, Jarvis, he hates me. He wishes I wasn’t his son,” Tony says, shaking his head. “Will you be my dad, now?”_

 

_Jarvis strokes his hand through Tony’s thick hair. His face holds an expression that Tony is unable to read, but looks to be almost… sad._

 

_“I would do anything to make you happy, dear boy. If it were up to me, you would never have any troubles, and would be able to do anything your heart desires,” he pauses, making sure that Tony was maintaining eye contact with him._

 

 _“I may not be your father, Tony. But I will_ always _look out for you. I love you more than anything.”_

 

Tony opens his eyes. He looks around the room, trying to see anything that may have woken him up. The soft blue of his arc reactor illuminates around the room, giving the man the visuals he needs to check his surroundings.

 

He nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees the shadow standing in the corner of the room, as still as a statue, staring at him.

 

“ _Jesus,”_ Tony curses, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Pete?”

 

There is a moment of pause before the boy speaks. “M’sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry, buddy,” Tony says. “What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

 

In the faint light, Tony sees Peter shake his head. “I di’nt sleep.”

 

Glancing at the clock, Tony sees the numbers read out that it just past three in the morning. Which means Peter has been laying in bed for hours, unable to sleep, working himself up enough that he made his way into Tony’s room for comfort.

 

“Do you want to sleep up here with me?” Tony offers. Peter shakes his head again, but does make his way closer to the man. As he gets closer, Tony is given a much better visual of the boy, seeing how tired he looks.

 

“Think it was all that cake that’s keeping you up? Too much sugar much too late, huh?” Tony tries to joke with the boy, more as a way to determine Peter’s mental state.

 

“Daddy,” Peter whimpers, ducking his head and curling into his own body, trying to be as small as possible.

 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Tony asks again. “What’s got you so worked up over, hm?” He slowly reaches out, giving Peter plenty of time to duck away if he does not want the touch. Seeing no negative reaction, Tony lays his hand on the back of Peter’s head.

 

“I don’…,” Peter trails off. After a few moments in which the boy attempts to put the right words together, he continues, staring firmly at the ground. So softly that if he were not right beside Tony, the man wouldn’t have even heard him, Peter whispers, “I don’ think I like Bubba very much, Daddy.”

 

Tony pauses. Despite the horror of the situation, the events that led Peter to this conclusion, in his mind, Tony is thrilled. This is what they have been working towards. Endless amounts of reassurance, therapy sessions about body autonomy, and Peter has finally understood.

 

“Yeah, buddy?” He chooses to say.

 

Peter nods. “S’just, Grace tells me that if I don’ want someone to touch me, I don’ gotta let ‘em.”

 

“That’s true, Pete,” Tony agree, allowing Peter to direct the conversation.

 

“I didn’ really get it, Daddy,” Peter claims. “‘Cause Bubba was almost _always_ nice to me, and he says that because he loves me I gotta do… _that._ But _you_ never make me, or… or ‘Four, or _anyone._ And… and you… you love me, right?”

 

“Always, baby,” Tony confirms.

 

“Then… then Ned asked for a hug, and even though we play all the time, and he lets me use his toys, and he gave me his Iron Man, and,” he trails off, taking another pause to gather his thoughts. “… and I us’ally wanna hug him, I di’nt last time and he was _okay_ with it, ‘Nee! He even said he loved me! Even though I di’nt wanna hug him!”

 

“Ned knows that everyone has the right to say no, Peter. He respects that,” Tony tells the boy.

 

Peter’s eyes, having grown wide as saucers through his story, look up at Tony. “Bubba _never_ did that, Daddy! He got mad when I di’nt touch him,” the boy sighs, tears gathering in his eyes, looking at his guardian with hesitant eyes.

 

“I don’ think Bubba loved me, ‘Nee,” Peter sniffs. “He hurt Peter.”

 

“Yeah, baby,” Tony agrees. “He did hurt you, and he took advantage of you.”

 

Peter’s lower lip trembles, and his small body begins shaking. Tony isn’t surprised. In the last five days, the boy had been processing and coming to the understanding that the one person he never thought would hurt him at HYDRA, hurt him the worst.

 

“Do you want a hug, baby?” Tony asks.

 

Peter quickly nods, and before he can blink, the boy has launched himself into Tony’s lap. He wraps his arms around Tony’s neck, his face buried in the man’s shoulder, as he finally allows his sobs to be released.

 

Tony isn’t upset. These tears are Peter’s way of freeing himself from the grasps of his abuser. The boy now knows that this memory of a man who would never hurt him, who loves him, who would do anything to protect him, never existed. He was a delusion created by a monster who knew the boy needed support, and supported by that said boy, who needed a friend so desperately that he would have done anything for it.

 

 _“If it were up to me, you would never have any troubles, and would be able to do anything your heart desires,”_ Tony hears the ghost of his old butler, his only friend for so long, comforting the boy when nobody else would.

 

Now it is Tony’s turn to be that support system.

 

He strokes Peter’s back, whispering soft nothings into his ear, allowing the boy to cry out his sorrows. He would sit here forever if that is what Peter needs.

 

“Sh, it’s alright, baby, let it out, that’s it. I’ll keep you safe, sweet boy,” he whispers.

 

He will do everything in his power to make sure that nothing ever hurts Peter again.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

“Okay, Peter,” Grace says. The two of them are sitting on the floor, in between them a bunch of Jenga looking blocks. “Are you ready?”

 

Peter shakes his head. “I don’ get it, Grace.”

 

“It’s simple. You take a block, and every block will represent something that’s makes you angry, or sad,frustrated, or scared. When the tower is completed, all our problems will be in this tower.”

 

“Why?” Peter asks.

 

“You’ll see, buddy,” she replies. “Do you want me to go first?”

 

Peter nods, so Grace picks up a large block to make the base of the tower. “Okay, so this morning my husband drank all the milk even though I _specifically_ asked him to leave it for me. That makes me feel frustrated.” As she says this, she places the block down. “You’re turn.”

 

Peter looks hesitant. After a pause, he takes a block himself and places it onto the tower. “Um… Clint makes fun of ‘Nee because he acts like my Daddy but he is my Daddy so it makes me mad sometimes,” he quickly mumbles, adding a block.

 

The two go about this for awhile, saying seemingly meaningless problems, making Tony wonder what the importance of this exercise was, until Peter picks up a red block and says, “HYDRA cut my arms up because they wanted me to spin webs and that made me scared.”

 

Oh.

 

As Peter’s worry-blocks grow stronger, so does Grace’s. She adds a block in which she was upset over the government turning down a proposal she made that included mutant rights, prompting Peter to do more in depth with his own feelings.

 

“They di’nt let me sleep for a _long_ time to see how long I could go. It made me really tired and sad.”

 

“They shot Mama and then I sat with her for a long time, and that made me _so_ scared.”

 

“‘Bubba made me touch him and… and put my mouth on his… _thing._ I di’nt like that at all and it made me scared and angry because I di’nt want it.

 

“They made it really, _really_ cold so that they could see if ‘Spida was like a ‘spida in that way. I was. I was scared.”

 

The two of them use so many blocks that Tony is surprised the tower they made hasn’t collapsed yet. It is quite tall, and by the end of it, there is one block left.

 

“One more, Peter, so since this will be making the roof of our tower, I want this one to be something that makes you _really_ upset. Something that, if were in front of you, you would say ‘you hurt me! I’m mad at you!’”

 

Peter nods. He takes the block in hand, observing it, while pondering. He looks over to where Tony is sitting, to Grace herself, then back to the block. After pinching his eyebrows together, he nods as if confirming his answer.

 

“Bubba said that he loved me, and he lied. He hurt me _a lot_ and that makes me really sad,” Peter says. “He made me think that I loved him, and that I liked doing that stuff with him, because it meant I love him, and that was mean and not nice of him. It makes me _really_ angry.”

 

He places the block at the top of the tower, retracts his hand, and observes their tower. If anyone would have walked in at this moment, they would have seen a regular Jenga tower. This tower, however, is much more than that. It represents everything Peter has gone through, his feelings he had to keep to himself for so long, his trauma.

 

“How does the tower make you feel, buddy?” Grace asks.

 

“I don’ know… sad?” Peter says. “It’s a bunch of sad things all together.”

 

“That’s right. That’s years worth of pain that you didn’t deserve to go through. I can imagine it makes you feel sad.

 

“Now, Pete,” Grace continues after a beat. “I want you to knock it down.”

 

Peter looks at her. “Why?”

 

“So that you can be in control of your own suffering. Nobody is able to decide if they get hurt or not, because everyone will be hurt in their life. But it’s up to you to decide how you will let that define you. Do you want to be nothing but the pain in this tower?”

 

“No!” Peter yells. “I’m with ‘Nee now! I’m in a good tower, with good feelings!”

 

“Good,” Grace smiles. “So, I want you to let out a _big_ scream, and I want you to knock the tower over. I want you to give it everything you’ve got.”

 

Peter looks back to Tony. Seeing the man smiling and nodding, he looks at the tower. There is a long, silent pause, in which the boy simply stares at the tower. What is going through his mind, Tony doesn’t know, but he hopes it’s good.

 

Taking a long breath in, Peter lets out a loud cry, before swinging his arm out and knocking over the tower. He continues to kick and hit the blocks until they are nothing but a pile of single units at his feet.

 

There is silence in the room for a long time, Peter deeply breathing from the destruction of the tower.

 

Suddenly, a loud giggle is throughout the room. Peter collapses on the ground, laughter overcoming him as he laughs and laughs. He looks towards Tony, smile blinding, and yells, “Look, Daddy! The bad’s all gone!”

 

Damn right, baby. Nothing can hurt you now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... ya. That's it. That's my story. Chapter 24 is going to work as a sort of epilogue to introduce my next story in this series, so this is the true end of darkness will be rewritten. I do hope you enjoyed my story. It took me 9.5 months to complete, but I feel like I did an okay job. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who stuck with me through it all, or are just joining now, no matter when you joined. You've all been such an amazing help in writing this story, and you mean the world to me. 
> 
> Please leave any comments or feedback, tell me if you enjoyed the story or not. I love you.


	24. epilogue (but never the end!!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is purely so I can try and convince ya'll to read my next work in the series.

_“_ I don’t understand you, man,” Ned shakes his head.

 

Peter looks at him and crunches his nose. “What’s so hard to understand about it?”

 

“Peter,” Ned says. “You don’t have to prove anything to your dad.”

 

“This isn’t about my dad, Ned!” Peter yells.

 

“You’re still a kid, dude,” Ned says, watching as Peter scribbles equation after equation in his notebook.

 

“I don’t _feel_ like a kid, Ned,” Peter tries to explain. “I haven’t really _ever_ felt like one, not really.” Ned looks down, looking conflicted. Peter sighs and tries to elaborate. “It’s just, like, I never got a choice in any of this, right? HYDRA took me when I was _two,_ dude.”

 

Ned nods. “I know, Pete, but Mr. Stark will freak out if he finds out what you’re doing.”

 

“Are you planning on telling him?” Peter asks. “I’ve already talked to him about giving me more space. I’m almost fifteen, Ned. He still treats me like I’m six.”

 

“So, you asked him to give you more space so you can, what? Sneak out and fight crime?”

 

Peter sighs. “It’s complicated, Ned.”

 

“So explain it to me,” Ned says.

 

“Look, from what I can remember, HYDRA wanted me to be this super villain assassin, right? Like the Winter Solider 2.0, or whatever.”

 

Ned nods, and despite the horrific reality of the situation, and the endless amounts of times he’s discussed this with his best friend, looks fascinated.

 

“I didn’t have a choice in that, Ned,” Peter says. “It’s been nearly a decade, and I’m still littered in scars from what they did to me. I want… I want to be able to make my own decisions about what happens with my powers, you know?”

 

Ned nods. “Riiight. But can’t you just be a normal, mutant kid? Do you _need_ to use your powers?”

 

“You don’t get it, man! I could have been the bad guy, Ned. The kind of people my dad and the rest of the Avengers fights every day. They could have been out there, fighting _me_.”

 

“But… they aren’t. They got you out of there, Peter,” Ned says gently. It isn’t uncommon for Peter, even years later, to forget his surroundings.

 

“I know,” Peter sighs. “It’s the thought of the matter, you know? I would have been a murderer by now, if my dad never found me.”

 

Ned hesitates. He honestly has never thought about it like that. Though Peter seems quite young, there is nothing stopping an organization like HYDRA from starting their assassins early. Black Widow started even earlier, hadn’t she?

 

“I want to write my own path,” Peter explains. “Not what they wanted. Not what my dad wants.”

 

“All your dad wants is for you to be kept safe, man,” Ned shakes his head. “The background checks he does on literally every single person you come in contact with is proof enough.”

 

“That’s exactly it, though! If it were up to him, I would be locked in the tower, in some padded room where I can’t even get a paper cut!” Peter yells. “I want to _help_ people, Ned. People who can’t help themselves. Like I couldn’t, back then."

 

“If HYDRA made me, then what’s stopping them from making another? I was just a lab rat to them, Ned,” Peter continues. “There’s billions of people to choose from, who’s saying they didn’t pluck some helpless kid up the minute I left? Some poor kid who’s been stuck there for almost nine years, getting the training I would have. I’m just success number one, to them.”

 

“None of that is your fault, though,” Ned says.

 

Peter sighs. “If they made another one, who’s going to be there to fight him? Or her?”

 

“Um, the Avengers?” Ned suggests.

 

“Who better to fight a new me than an old me, right?” Peter says, watching as Ned’s face grows confused. “Maybe that didn’t make sense to you, but it does to me, man!”

 

Noticing that Ned is not going to comment, Peter lets out a frustrated sigh. “When bad things happen, HYDRA gets stronger, Ned. They thrive off of that stuff. What better way to fight against HYDRA then fighting off the things that make them strong?”

 

“So, you’re going to fight bad guys because it’s the exact opposite of what HYDRA… made you for?” Ned asks.

 

“Yes! I’m taking back my powers, Ned! They belong to me, and I can do what I want with them!” Peter yells.

 

Ned looks down to Peter’s notebook and sighs. The teen had been testing different forms of webbing for days, and claims he has made the perfect solution, this time around.

 

“Don’t you think Mr. Stark will catch word of a skinny kid swinging from a web and think, ‘hm, that sounds like the same exact things my son can do’?”

 

“Well, he won’t have to worry, because you’re going to cover for me,” Peter says.

 

“What?”

 

“I’ll say I’m going to be with you, and if he calls you or whatever, tell him that I’m with you or something. You can be like my sidekick!” Peter exclaims, bouncing in his seat, giving Ned the biggest puppy eyes he can.

 

Ned lets out a throaty noise. “Awe, c’mon man! Why did you have to say it like that? Now I’m _obligated_ to help! I can be like your guy in the chair!”

 

“My what?” Peter asks, smiling slightly.

 

“You know! Like the guy who sits by the computers and feeds you information! Guy in the chair!” Ned explains.

 

Peter laughs. “You’ll be the best guy in the chair anyone could ask for!”

 

The two spend the rest of the afternoon discussing how Peter will be able to pull it off. How he will disguise himself, how often he will go out, the excuses he can make to sneak away from the tower.

 

“Are you… are you going to call yourself ‘The Spider?” Ned asks.

 

Peter flinches. “No.”

 

“Oh… sorry,” Ned says. “It’s just, you said you want to be the opposite of what they wanted you to be, right, so I figured maybe you’d keep the name, as an extra punch to their faces.”

 

Peter nods. “I get it, Ned, I just… I can’t. It reminds me too much of things I _really_ don’t like thinking about.”

 

“That makes sense,” Ned agrees. “But what are you going to call yourself? Is the spider name completely off the table? Because if so, there are still so many options! ’The Web Slinging Slasher’? Get it? Like the Spongebob thing, only with webs instead of hash. Or! Or… ‘The Amazing Web Slinger’!”

 

“Spider-Man,” Peter says when Ned is done his rant.

 

“Spider-Man,” Ned nods. “Like… Iron Man?”

 

“It’s stupid,” Peter shakes his head. “I just want to _be_ like him, you know? He’s done so much for me, and, and…”

 

“No, man,” Ned cuts him off. “I love it. It has a really cool ring to it.”

 

“You think so?” Peter smiles at his best friend.

 

“Hell yeah, man. Let’s go Spider-Man!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thats the official end of darkness will be rewritten. it's been a jourNEY. thank you all for reading and part 2 will be up shortly (hopefully), but I may have a one-shot or two to be posting before this. 
> 
> I made the series tab, so you can all follow that (rescue me from the waves) if you got attached to this universe and want to be updated on any postings for new content, just watch out for that!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading you wonderful people, and I will be back soon with more! 
> 
> If you have any one-shot prompts while you wait for part 2, drop a comment or hit me up on my tumblr (marveal).


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